


Inktober Drabbles

by LeChatNoir1918



Series: Inktober [1]
Category: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries
Genre: Drabbles and Ficlets, F/M, Fanart, I don’t know where this is going, Inktober 2019, fluff or angst or smut?, how about a bit of everything
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-03
Updated: 2019-11-01
Packaged: 2020-11-22 15:48:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 32
Words: 27,988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20876735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeChatNoir1918/pseuds/LeChatNoir1918
Summary: 31 days of Inktober prompted drawings with accompanying drabbles/ficlets. A bit of everything. +1 smutty bonus chapter





	1. Ring

**Author's Note:**

> After receiving some lovely feedback on Tumblr I decided to post my Inktober drabbles here as well because some of them got to be a bit longer. Will try to make it through the entire month!
> 
> EDIT after the fact (to provide a quick overview of the chapters, details are always at the top of each chapter):
> 
> If you're mainly interested in smut, chapters 3 (kind of), 12, 16, 25, 31 and 32 are for you!
> 
> Chapters 2, 9, 14, 20, and 29 are whumpy.
> 
> The rest of the chapters are some variation of fluff :D 
> 
> Enjoy!

It was the second time they found themselves here, on the airfield, with Phryne in her flying gear about to leave him. And though the scene was familiar, the circumstances had changed. Jack didn’t have to run after her as he had done the first time. They walked to the plane hand in hand and when they reached the wing, both reluctant to let go, Jack drew Phryne in to kiss her, deeply and thoroughly. It wasn’t their first kiss, nor their hundredth, in fact Jack had given up counting long ago. It didn’t matter anyway, since every time their lips touched, his stomach fluttered the same way it had the first time.

“Fly safe,” he said softly when their lips parted, gently holding Phryne by her waist, still quite unwilling to let her out of his reach.

Jack knew she loved him, felt it in every look and touch of hers, yet he couldn’t stop a small part of himself wondering if she would return to him. After all, there was a whole world out there, he recalled her words the last time they had stood here. Surely he could hardly compete with that, and his greatest fear, that Phryne Fisher would get bored with him and move on, would eventually come true.

He looked down in surprise at the feeling of Phryne grabbing his hand and placing something small and circular in his palm. Jack recognized the ring immediately, had seen it often enough on her hand and in her jewelry box, the slim silver band easily distinguishable from the rest of her extensive collection. It had belonged to her grandmother, she had once told him after she had noticed his curious stare. It was the only piece of jewelry Phryne seemed to treasure more than the swallow pin he had first pinned to her blouse about a year ago and which was now firmly in place on her flying scarf.

“Is this your version of a romantic overture?” Jack questioned with a smirk, recalling his own past words. “Some sort of backwards marriage proposal?” he continued teasing, the humor in his words in stark contrast to his inner emotional turmoil.

Phryne, to her credit, only slightly rolled her eyes before refocusing them on his, a brilliant shining blue that bore into his soul every single time. She reached out to stroke her thumb over his cheek and lightly pressed her lips to his again, their kiss short and sweet this time.

“It’s a promise, Jack Robinson,” she replied sincerely, and Jack knew he would sleep alright that night.


	2. Mindless

It was the nights that were the worst in this ugly, bloody and brutal war.

When the darkness covered the battlefields like an all extinguishing blanket, burying the dead as well as the living underneath it. When the constant auditory bombardment of gunshots and explosions, along with the adrenaline they brought, ceased and a deafening silence, only interrupted by the occasional sob or pained scream, laid itself over the day’s survivors. That was when they were alone with their thoughts. With their memories of the mindless violence of this war, of friends being torn to shreds, sometimes dying quickly, sometimes suffering for hours before they were released from this world.

At night the living were unrecognizable as such, haunted dreams and nightmares that played on a never-ending loop even when their eyes were open. Survivors that didn’t feel as such, trying to ignore their numbness to go on living, fighting another day, contributing to the mindlessness of it all. For country, for honour, for freedom, no matter the cost.


	3. Bait

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Very light smut in this one...

Jack knew she was baiting him. They had been sitting in her parlour, sharing their usual post-case drink when Phryne had brought out photographs that made his brain short-circuit. Now she was sitting across from him, a self-satisfied smile firmly in place while he had first stared at the photographs, then at her, unbelieving that she would dare to go this far.

“You see why I had to turn them over to the police, Jack. I wouldn’t want to get arrested for possessing... illegal photographs.” _Damn that smug smile of hers._

Jack couldn’t decide if he was more angry or more aroused at her baiting him with those damn photographs of hers. Not only were they hers they were _of_ her, which was the real issue here.

Jack settled on being angrily aroused.

They flirted yes, but there had always been a line neither had dared to venture across and over time it had almost become an unspoken agreement between them that the line would never be crossed, or at least be approached with caution.

_But now she had crossed it. Had jumped over it and thrown out her bait to pull him back across it with her. And this time she had him, hook, line and sinker. This time he wouldn’t be able to get away. He knew it, she probably knew it as well. Might as well make the catch memorable, he thought to himself._

“I’m afraid I’ll have to question you about these photographs, Miss Fisher.” he said, his voice as authoritative as he could manage. He watched the smirk on her face transform into an utterly delighted smile as she settled into her chair, waiting for his questions.

“Go ahead, _Detective Inspector_.” The way she wrapped her tongue around his title made Jack harden significantly but he ignored the desire to flee. He had decided to play the game and knew where he wanted it to lead. She certainly didn’t seem to have any qualms about the whole thing.

“Do you agree that this is you in the photographs.” he started, gesturing at the images in front of him.

“Well, you see, _Inspector_, that is just the trouble. Someone must have doctored the face to make it appear so.” she said innocently. Too innocently. It was a blatant lie of course, her voice rising in pitch a dead giveaway added to the fact that Jack had seen her body during that fan dance and the image of her had burned itself into his brain. He’d recognize her form, _her breasts_, anywhere.

“I’m not sure I believe you, Miss Fisher. Perhaps...” he hesitated, before remembering he was on a mission and finishing strongly “...perhaps you could prove that it is not you, as you say.”

Her mouth fell open in shock and now it was Jack who wore the smug smile. Phryne recovered quickly however.

“And how would you suggest I do that?” she smirked.

“The woman in these photographs is not wearing a blouse.” _Or much of anything else, he thought. Lord help him_. ”How about we start there.”

“I see.” Phryne replied, making a face like she was about to refuse his suggestion, before springing to her feet far too enthusiastically for that to have been true and beginning to unbutton her blouse. “As you wish, _Inspector_."

Jack swallowed as she swept the garment away from her torso, leaving her upper half covered by a flimsy black camisole. His mouth went dry and he suddenly had trouble speaking.

“I’ll just go ahead and take my trousers off as well, since the woman in the photos isn’t wearing a pair of those either,” Phryne smirked seductively, waiting for a reply from Jack that didn’t come, before swiftly unbuttoning her trousers and letting them fall to her feet.

_Reeling him in closer._

Jack clenched his fists in his lap at the sight of her, wearing only her camisole and tap pants. He managed to raise an eyebrow and nod his head towards her, silently prompting her to continue.

Phryne started lifting the bottom edge of her camisole before she suddenly halted her movements. Then she spoke, while walking... no, _prowling_ towards him like a tiger stalking its prey.

_A final pull._

“_Hypothetically_, Inspector, if the woman in the photographs _was_ me. What would be my punishment?”

She was standing in front of him now. Jack wondered if he was imagining being able to smell her but in any case the urge to reach out and touch her was quickly becoming overwhelming.

_He was caught._

He tilted his head in contemplation, then stood up decisively, bringing his face inches away from Phryne’s. He smiled as he saw her breathing speed up and captured her wrists, bringing them around to her back in a smooth and quick motion. The movement pressed her fully into him, their hands joined at the small of her back while Jack barely managed to suppress a groan at the contact of her soft stomach against his hardening erection.  
Phryne moaned in surprise, then started to shamelessly wriggle against his hold on her, lightly pushing herself into him over and over again, all thought threatening to leave his mind at the satisfaction of finally feeling her. Another moan from Phryne reminded Jack that there was still a game afoot and he still had an answer to give.

Jack moved his lips close to Phryne’s, so close that they were almost touching hers, their breaths caressing the other’s face, and felt her still against him.  
“Trust me, Miss Fisher” he managed to grind out, his voice rough from her proximity and ministrations against him. “Your punishment will be_ rough _and_ thorough_,” his words being accompanied by hard thrusts of his hips.

Phryne’s answering moan was swallowed by him as he finally brought his lips to hers, hungrily devouring her mouth as she wrestled her tongue with his.

Jack let go of her wrists to free up his hands which were now eagerly running over her sides, caressing the silky fabric of her camisole until they were caressing the silky softness of her skin. Phryne in the meantime was no less busy, barely maintaining contact with his lips as she pushed at his suit jacket and pushed at him until Jack found himself backed up against the wall. He pulled her back in to kiss her, thinking to himself that he could happily drown in the taste of her and let his hands wander down her back until he reached her backside, her curves soft yet muscled through the thin fabric of her knickers.  
Phryne broke the contact at their lips and started kissing her way down his neck, mewling softly into his skin as he squeezed the perfect globes of her ass, hard, pulling her against him once more. Phryne groaned this time, deeper, more primal. Jack surged against her, pushing himself away from the wall and lifting her up into his arms, her legs wrapping around his hips automatically as she turned his face towards hers to press a sloppy, heated kiss to his mouth.

Jack only dimly remembered how they made their way up the stairs but then there was Phryne, spread out before him on her bed like he had always dreamed about and he found he didn’t care how they had gotten here as he proceeded to make good on his promise of a rough and thorough treatment.

***

The next morning Phryne awoke in Jack’s arms, her arm slung across his torso, feeling delightfully sore and sated. A warm feeling spread itself throughout her body and she wrapped her arm tighter around his waist to snuggle into him. _Jack Robinson truly was the catch of a lifetime._

_ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you look really closely you can see my attempts at drawing half-nudes. Which I then covered with black to make them less visible.


	4. Freeze

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tropey Angst/fluff? Idk, I think the whumptober stuff inspired me but this is probably as angsty as I'll get.  
As you'll notice I used that whole "south pole" script snippet that was released about a year ago... many fantastic fics have already been written for that but it just fit so well with the Inktober prompt that I had to use it.  
Also I have a problem with run-on sentences I'm working on it I promise gaaaaaah.

“You need to get warm.” Jack’s voice was calm, unlike his inner turmoil, as he looked around the empty room for something, _anything_ to help with that endeavor.

“At the South p...p..pole they recommend skin to skin cont..t..tact... Besides, y...you...you’re wet as well.”

It was a poor attempt at flirtation given that Phryne was shivering in icy wet clothes, her teeth chattering. She stood in front of him in the cabin he had dragged her to after rescuing her from the lake their fleeing suspect had tried to drown her in. In the middle of winter in the mountains. Her lips were starting to turn blue and now was most decidedly NOT the time for flirting.

“You’re not taking this seriously enough,” he hissed, adrenaline levels still high from the near miss at the lake. He was, in fact, also drenched, but the exertion and accompanying adrenaline rush of pulling Phryne out of the water and almost carrying her to the cabin made him forget all about it. “You need to take off your clothes.”

“I thought you’d n...n..never ask,” Phryne returned, her delivery slightly off due to the shiver-induced wobble in her voice. She did comply, however, peeling off her drenched overcoat and dropping it to the ground before starting to fumble with the various buttons on her blouse.

“I can’t...” she started. “You’re g...g..going to need to help...help me with this, Jack.”

Jack swallowed but quickly moved over to her side. _Goddamnit, Jack Robinson. This is a life or death situation, get over yourself._

At the first touch of his hands against the cold wetness of the fabric covering her skin, all romantic thoughts that might have crossed his mind, disappeared as he set to get Phryne out of the death trap that was her clothes. She tried to help, her fingers like icicles against his, spurring him on to go faster and soon her had her blouse and trousers unbuttoned. He crouched down to untie her boots, slipping her feet out of them so she could remove the rest of her clothes.

“I’m going to look for some blankets,” he announced and quickly left the room before Phryne started undressing completely. 

Jack took a deep breath as he finally allowed himself to take in the cabin. There wasn’t much to take in, he quickly discovered as he hurriedly went from room to room. The kitchen was badly stocked and there seemed to be no running water. When he reached the bedroom he was faced with a bare mattress.

Jack felt the panic welling up inside his chest again. They were miles away from any help and the car they had arrived with had by now most likely sunken to the bottom of the lake, along with their suspect. Though Jack couldn’t care less about whether the guy was alive or dead.

His movements faltered as he recalled watching their suspect drive the car, along with Phryne in it, into the lake. It had happened so fast that Jack hadn’t been able to stop him, had stood frozen in place as the car had launched into the water. When he had arrived at the edge of the lake, the top of the car was almost completely submerged and Phryne, while she had escaped from the interior of the car, was now weakly fighting their suspect as he tried to pull her under water, the icy coldness of the lake slowing her movements and her clothes weighing her down. 

Jack had hurriedly pulled off his overcoat and then jumped in without second thought, the cold digging into his skin with icy claws. He managed to drag their suspect off of Phryne, before she wrapped her arms around him and he swam the short distance to shore with her clinging to his back. That was when the real trouble had started. Phryne had been in the water longer than him, which, in these conditions mattered. She was leaning heavily on him, her small frame somehow even smaller in his arms. He had spotted a small, dark cabin in the distance, the only sensible choice at that point, and had put all of his remaining energy into getting them there.

Jack shook himself out of his wandering thoughts. The possibility that Phryne would freeze to death was still very much existent. He yanked open the closet in the corner of the bedroom and groaned in relief when he saw two blankets. Better than nothing.

When he returned to the hall, Phryne was still standing where he had left her, without her blouse and trousers, but still clad in her undergarments which clung to her body like a second skin. 

“I d...d..didn’t want to m..make you too un..uncomfortable,” she explained, still shivering madly. 

Jack felt like an ass. 

“Phryne Fisher, you are the most infuriatingly smart and beautiful and stubborn woman I have ever met. Yes I’m attracted to you but I am also your friend and _as_ your friend I’m telling you to stop being to goddamn stubborn. So get out of your wet clothes before you freeze to death. Right now, Phryne. Damn my being comfortable because if you_ die_ then I’ll really be uncomfortable!”

Silence descended on them, both a bit shocked at his sudden outburst. Phryne seemed to consider replying before she quietly conceded and peeled the remainder of her clothes off, taking the blanket Jack was holding out to her and wrapping herself in it, tightly. 

“Y...you need to t....t..take your cl..clothes off as w...w...well, Jack.” she stated and Jack noticed the look of concern in her eyes. He was, in fact, now that he was thinking about it, very cold as well, his layers of clothing conspiring against him as they laid heavily on his body. 

_Right. _Jack knew that stripping was the only logical option if he didn’t want to freeze to death along with her, it just turned out to be more of a mental hurdle than he had expected. He hesitated. 

Phryne rolled her eyes, a movement that turned out looking more like a seizure, due to her shivering. “Would y...y..you like m..me to turn ar..around?” she brought out. “H...Ho...Honestly, it’s nothing I h...h...haven’t seen be...before.”

Well, she was still able to banter, which Jack took as a good sign. He made his decision and turned his back to her before starting to strip, wrapping himself in his blanket as quickly as he could manage, before turning back around to face her. 

“Are you getting any warmer?” he inquired carefully, doubting it since her shivering had not calmed down.

“Not... not really,” came her reply as she tried to wrap the blanket even tighter around her. “Ab...about that skin to ssss..skin contact...” she started hesitatingly.

“Phryne...”

“It’s just... I’m still s...so c..c..cold. Pl...please, Jack.” she pleaded. 

Jack knew that he didn’t have a choice if they were to get warm quickly. Contrary to what Phryne may believe, he_ was _aware of the fact that skin to skin contact was effective. And as such, a practical and logical solution to their predicament. 

He nodded. “There’s a bed in one of the rooms.”

***

Soon they were lying in said bed, facing each other. Jack had hissed as Phryne’s freezing cold skin came into contact with his, but it had made him forget about her, and his, complete nakedness. He now had his arms wrapped around her tightly, one blanket between their lower halves to at least keep some sort of decency between them. The other blanket was covering them and slowly, very slowly, Jack felt his skin begin to tingle as the muscles in his arms unclenched and the feeling in his limbs returned. 

Phryne was staring intently at him, her fingers sandwiched between their two bodies, still like icicles against his chest, though Jack noted with relief that her teeth had stopped chattering.

“Thank you for saving me,” she finally whispered.

“The job’s not done yet, Miss Fisher, your lips still have a frighteningly bluish tint to them.” Jack replied seriously, though Phryne could detect the teasing humor in his voice.

“So do yours,” she returned, and Jack thought he saw the corner of her mouth twitch up in a smirk.

“Best warm them up then,” he stated, delighting in the wide-eyed look on Phryne's face as he leaned forward to press a kiss... against her forehead. 

“You’re a tease, Jack Robinson.” she replied dryly, as she snuggled up against his chest, her head neatly tucked underneath his chin.

***

After a while, Phryne’s breathing got deeper and her fingers between them started to feel less icicle-like. As the warmth slowly began to engulf them, Jack felt himself lulled into sleep along with Phryne. He didn’t know what the morning would bring regarding their relationship but found he didn’t much care at the moment, content to lie here with the woman he loved, safe and sound, and warm, in his arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Contrary to what the drawing looks like, the prompt was not "amulet". The main reason this turned out so artistic looking was that I also post these to Instagram and I didn't want to post Phrack realistically naked cuddling because there are real official Miss Fisher people over there...


	5. Build

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short and sweet today!

Jack inwardly cursed himself for having taken on this project.

Apparently all Phryne had to do was flutter those long eyelashes of hers and say please and he was transformed into her willing servant. If he was being honest with himself it didn’t even take that much effort on her part sometimes.His inability to resist her charms had led to his current position, sitting cross-legged on the ground in Phryne’s backyard, surrounded by loose planks of wood and nails, trying to build the lady of the house a bench.

He questioned why she even needed a bench, especially one that he built as she could probably easily purchase a much better looking bench than the one he would be able to make.And yet here he was sacrificing his day off for her. Jack stared at the piece of paper in his hands, outlining Phryne’s instructions for what she wanted the bench to look like. 

_And why was he the man for the job anyway?_ _Surely the red-raggers would be just as, if not more, proficient in building a bench than he was?_

He really had become a pushover. 

Jack sighed and shook his head before standing up and bending over to pick up the pieces he needed to get started. He had taken off his suit jacket already and suspected it wouldn’t be long until the waistcoat would need to go as well before he started sweating through it. _Maybe he’d at least get some lemonade for his efforts._

He didn’t notice the figure in one of the upper floor windows of Wardlow behind him, whose bright blue eyes watched in amusement over his bent over form. The figure’s gaze flitted over the muscled globes of Jack’s behind, red lips tilted up in a smirk. 

_Yes, Jack Robinson was the perfect man for the job. _

_ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sure Jack's... hammering is stellar.  
Which sorely tempts me to turn this into a full length smutty one shot at some point.


	6. Husky

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another short drabble. Don't know about this one.  
Also yes, I went with huskies for the prompt "husky" because they popped to mind and I have a dog obsession. Original, I know.

Phryne was in her element (though Jack had yet to figure out if there was anything that wasn’t Phryne Fisher’s element), standing on the back of the dog sled and spurring their huskies on to go faster. Jack, on the other hand, who was seated in the carriage below her, was holding on for dear life as the ride was anything but smooth, bumps and sudden jerks of the sled making for an uncomfortable ride at the speed they were going. The cold wind was blowing in his face and around his ears, his head only protected by a cap as the dogs pulled the sled faster and faster at Phryne’s direction. Jack would have loved to steer the sled himself, as that seemed to be the more comfortable position, but he had no experience and Phryne, of course, had learned how to lead the dogs from… _what was his name, Roger?_ sometime after the war. So naturally she had taken the reigns.

He should have known that vacation with Phryne meant yet another murder investigation instead of relaxing in bed in their mountain cabin. Jack felt his age as the sled transferred every bump in the snow straight into his spine, his lower back already protesting against the repeated assaults. He hoped he could get up from the low seat by himself when they finally stopped. Though stopping didn’t seem to be in their near future as the suspect they were currently chasing through the snowy landscape was sledding a few hundred meters in front of them, going just as fast as they were.

Jack did, however, have a nice view of the huskies in front of him, after having admired them as soon as they had set foot on the Alaskan farm their suspect worked at. Jack had just been about to pet one of the dogs, curious to find out if they felt as fluffy as they looked, when Phryne had spotted their suspect and things had progressed from there.

He sighed as yet another bump sent him jumping in his seat. As soon as the suspect was dealt with, he _would_ pet those huskies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I gave myself 2 hours for each drawing but this.... took longer than that. WHO let me draw huskies?? Kindly ignore the faces if you would.


	7. Enchanted

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sappy sappy fluff today. Really, with Phrack it's difficult to find a scene where they don't look enchanted with each other.  


Jack read the title at the top of the page of where Phryne held the book out for him.

_Liebeslied_

The Rilke poem he had read an excerpt of at the vineyard. They had gotten back from that case a few days ago and Phryne had been hounding him to read her more Rilke ever since. She had even purchased a Rilke collection for that purpose, or at least Jack assumed she did as she didn’t speak German well enough to understand the words written on the page. The thought that she had bought it with only him in mind made him tingle pleasantly.

He had finally acquiesced and now it was after dinner and therefore time for him to make good on the agreement. Phryne had wanted to pick the poem and while Jack had assumed that she wouldn’t pick one about war or death, he had not considered that she might want him to read the love poem. 

He looked up at her, a questioning look in his eyes while he waited for her to confirm that this was indeed the poem she wanted him to read.

“Please, Jack.” she said softly and Jack’s hands automatically took the book from her as they settled in on the chaise in her parlor. 

His mind was going a hundred miles an hour. Phryne _knew _this was a love poem and yet, or maybe because of this, she wanted him to read it to her. Either she was toying with his feelings -which he knew to be reflected in the poem-, or there was something more there. Maybe this was a hint. A hint that _she_ in fact was in love with him as well. 

Jack shook his head at his own train of thought. He was an adult for heaven’s sake, not some lovesick school boy.

_“Wie soll ich meine Seele halten, daß sie nicht an deine rührt? Wie soll ich sie hingeben über dich zu andern Dingen?”_

_“How can I keep my soul in me, so that it doesn’t touch your soul? How can I raise it high enough, past you, to other things?”_

He paused, painfully aware of his own emotional state when it came to Phryne. His soul, his heart, were already tightly tethered to hers. He had spent many a moment, ever since he thought her to have died behind the wheel, thinking about how he could untether them. How he could move on. He hadn’t found an escape yet and was getting tired of trying.

_“Ach gerne möcht ich sie bei irgendwas Verlorenem im Dunkel unterbringen an einer fremden stillen Stelle, die nicht weiterschwingt wenn deine Tiefen schwingen.”_

_“I would like to shelter it, among remote lost objects, in some dark and silent place that doesn’t resonate when your depths resound.”_

Jack paused here, momentarily overwhelmed. Even though he knew how the poem went, reading it with Phryne beside him, at her direction, felt different. It felt significant. The lines were true for him. When she was in pain he felt it as a stab to his own heart and when she laughed, he himself felt giddy with happiness.

He almost became angry. How dare she ask of him to read this poem. When she knew, or at least had to suspect, the depth of his feelings for her, how dare she throw this on him and tease him with what might never be between them, how dare she...

Jack turned his head, then, to look at her and his anger dissipated as quickly as it had arrived. 

For Phryne was staring at his mouth as if under a spell, eyes full of adoration and maybe something more, something Jack hoped with all his heart he wasn’t imagining seeing. 

“You..” the words came out as a rasp and he cleared his throat to try again. “You know the rest, Miss Fisher,” for he had read the words that followed at the vineyard.

Phryne tracked the movement of his lips as he spoke, then raised her gaze to look into his eyes and the emotion in them momentarily took Jack’s breath away.

“Yes,” she whispered, holding the eye contact, both seemingly unable to look away, utterly enchanted with each other.

“So,” Jack spoke, carefully. “What musician holds us in his hand?” he asked, reciting one of the last lines of the poem from memory and making the daring assumption that Phryne was also thinking of the two of them at the moment.

“I think we create our own melody, Jack,” came her reply, soft but certain. Her words settled over him as he realized what she was really trying to say and he forced his eyes away from hers for a moment to be able to take in her entire expression. She looked as enchanted as he felt and Jack felt himself drawn closer to her by an invisible force that seemed to drag her forward as well until their lips were but a breath apart. 

“Oh sweetest song,” Jack whispered, returning to the poem. They closed the remaining distance.


	8. Frail

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This became so ridiculous; apparently this is what happens when I try to create some sort of parallel. I've decided I'm just going to laugh about it.
> 
> Also, there are longer ficlets coming the next few days, the prompts just weren't really right the past few days.

The swallow looked tiny in Jack’s hands. It _was_ tiny. It was impatiently moving around, trying to get up and fly away, unable to do so with its wing hanging limply at its side. That’s how Jack had found it in his garden, he had almost stepped on it by accident, and his heart had clenched at the sight of the struggling animal.

Now he was sitting in his garden, gently cradling the frail bird in his hands as he was contemplating what to do. He softly talked to it, his rumbling voice murmuring words of reassurance, well aware that it couldn’t understand any of it but wanting to provide any comfort he could. The swallow moved around a bit more before sitting still while he talked, a maneuver that was concerning to Jack as the behavior seemed unlikely for its nature but it was still breathing, was still conscious.

The swallow’s outward frailness stood in contrast to the rather determined look in its eyes, though Jack supposed it was difficult to read emotion in a bird’s face. But the swallow sure looked determined to him, a certain strength that slumbered underneath the ruffled feathers.

It was that hidden determination and strength, possibly, that saw to the swallow’s recovery over the next few days while Jack did his best to nurture it back to health, keeping it warm and safe. When he released the tiny bird back into the open world, he almost felt a little sad that his companion had gone. He was all the more excited when he spotted the swallow sitting on the little table in his yard the next day. And the next week. It continued coming back to his yard, keeping him company for a few hours every now and then while he sat in his garden and read, before flying away to do its own business again.

***

A few weeks passed until the day Jack met Phryne Fisher in a murder victim’s bathroom and many months later when he returned from the airfield with tears in his eyes after, seeing her fly off to London, Jack found the swallow sitting on his doorstep, because no matter how many times it flew away from him, it would always come back.


	9. Swing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whumpy drabble with a happy ending because I can't write a non-happy ending.
> 
> Somehow I'm managing to turn "happy" prompts into whumps and "whumpy" prompts into fluff. Ooooops.

Phryne wished she could say that she had put the past behind her. That she had made peace with the fact that her sister was dead. But she hadn’t put the past behind her, hadn’t gotten over the grief, even though weeks had passed since they had uncovered Janey’s body.

She got through everyday life like she always did, happy and vibrant, but still there was something lurking underneath the surface, something dark and sinister that wouldn’t let her out of its grip. She tried to distract herself by going out dancing and meeting friends, momentary breaks from her subconscious, but as soon as she was alone, the memory of finding her sister’s body came back. The memory of finally seeing where she had lain in the ground for 15 years, so close and yet unreachable. The memory of the unearthing of the small bones, the scent and sounds of the leaves of the weeping willows mingled with an imaginary smell of death crashing over Phryne with no way to defend herself against the onslaught. 

Phryne decided she needed to remove the grove of weeping willows from her personal list of horrors. 

She asked Jack to come with her the first time, her rock, and he silently stood by as they stood underneath the weeping willow like they had several months before. Phryne cried again, comforted by Jack’s hand on her back, steadying her and keeping her in the moment. Maybe it had been a bad idea to come back here. But she had to do this. Turn this place into something else, something to replace the image in her head of Janey’s remains.

In a joint effort, they hung up the swing on one of the tree branches, then they left. Janey would have liked the swing.

Phryne started visiting regularly, the grove her own personal hideaway from the world, the place she felt most connected with Janey, where she could have long conversations about everything and nothing with herself. She liked to imagine her sister was listening. It became a place where she could mourn without feeling embarrassed by the fact that she had not gotten over Janey’s death, without having to pretend to be fine. 

And after a while the pain got better, the grief less immobilizing.

When Murdoch Foyle’s execution date was announced, Phryne knew it was time to move on. She would be ready. The day of the execution, she visited the grove one last time, Janey’s ribbon in her hands, absentmindedly trailing her hands over the thin fabric. Listened to the birds and breathed in the fresh air as she lightly swung herself back and forth on the swing. Rolled the ribbon up tightly and allowed herself to cry one last time for the life that never got to unfold, the sister she had lost. 

***

On her way back to her car, Phryne passed two young children who ran towards the grove, excitedly talking about a secret swing one of them had discovered.

She smiled. The grove of weeping willows had found a new purpose, a happy one. Janey would have liked the swing.


	10. Pattern

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to OllyJay for being my prompt whisperer!!
> 
> Some kissing at the end, nothing real smutty though. That will come on Day 12...

Jack had bought the tie with Phryne in mind. He felt he needed something special, something she hadn’t seen before, something that would surprise her when they had finally managed to arrange a... well, date, for all intents and purposes.

This tie had immediately caught Jack’s eye, the circles and whirls and colors different, in a good way, from the other ties he owned. The ones she’d already seen. The tie conveyed a certain kind of playfulness, openness, and sense of adventure, all the things Jack wanted to be for her.

What followed were a cancelled date, a murder at the “Cavalcade of Mysteries”, a meddling father and a rather embarrassing declaration of feelings by Jack’s drunken self. 

When the circumstances had calmed, they set up another dinner, just the two of them and Phryne had requested he wear the tie. Jack was flattered.

And then it was after-dinner, they were standing in her parlor, and Phryne was trailing her hands along his chest, catching the tie in between her fingers and letting the silk flow over her palms.

“I like this tie, Jack.” she breathed. “Do you know why?”

“Enlighten me, Miss Fisher.” Jack rumbled back.

“Well,” she started, stepping closer to him. “For one thing, you bought it for a special occasion.”

“A special occasion?” he innocently raised an eyebrow at her. 

“A very special occasion.” she smirked knowingly. “Sadly, it had to be postponed.”

Jack couldn’t resist reaching out to rest his hands on her waist, lightly pulling her closer as she traced the lines in the pattern with her finger, drawing circles on his chest.

“I like the boldness of the pattern, the round circles and pointed lines, it has a certain sense of unpredictability to it.” she continued, mapping out the pattern. “Clashing colors and shapes in theory, yet they conspire to make something beautiful, something that makes sense against all odds, against what one might expect from them.”

Jack let her talk as he began drawing light circles on her hips with his thumbs, their faces drifting closer to each other. 

“It portrays the dance between the colors; the red, passionate and wild, and the blue, calm yet bright. They harmonize, intertwine and highlight the best qualities of each other, make the other more interesting by association. To some might seem as if its a struggle for dominance, but it’s not, Jack, it’s a partnership. They’re best together.” she spoke softly, willing him to understand. _As if he was that dense._

“And what does the white signify, Miss Fisher?” he asked, one hand coming up to caress her cheek, eyes searching hers for a reflection of his own feelings. 

“It’s the unknown, the yet to be explored, yet to be filled in.”

“Would you like me to explore it?” Lips a breath apart.

“More than anything.” A whisper against his skin.

Then, flames, burning white-hot, dancing between them, around them, inside them. Bright red and blue sparks, warming them and spurring them on as their lips clashed, tongue’s spearing into the other’s mouth to explore the textures they found there. Hands wandering, clutching each other tightly, groping whatever part of the other they could reach.

The tie was discarded quickly, no longer needed as they recreated the pattern themselves, red and blue mixing, mingling, then finally joining as one, no lines, no white to separate them. Skin on skin, no more obstacles, and it was everything they had ever dreamed of, better, because it was more significant than any pattern on a tie, any metaphor they could concoct. 

When the fire had calmed, the heat remained inside their bellies. Limbs were draped heavily over each other and when she had caught her breath, Phryne reached out to grab the tie from where she had flung it over an armchair. 

“I’m going to keep this tie, you know.” she stated, with no room left for argument. 

Jack tried to look admonishing but found it hard to keep the smile of his face.

“As long as I get to visit it.” he replied, holding his breath as he waited for her answer.

Phryne grinned. “Oh you’ll be visiting it for a long time to come, Jack.”

He pulled her back into his arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Really loving the way importing an image to AO3 kills the resolution...


	11. Snow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fluuuuffff. That's it.

“Come on, Jack!” Phryne shouted excitedly as she all but dragged Jack out into the snow, the cold air hitting him with full force after being holed up in their warm bed all day.

Eventually Phryne had grown restless lying there -how she had any energy left after their night together was beyond Jack-, and had convinced him that it was time for a trip outside of their rented mountain cabin.

The snow crunched underneath their boots as they stepped out into the open and Phryne almost immediately let go of his hand to run ahead, snow whirling up around her as she moved. 

She glanced over her shoulder to see Jack standing there, watching her, a smile on his face though he looked a bit sad.

She knew that he sometimes had trouble with snow, that it brought back memories of freezing nights in the trenches for him along with memories of bright red blood stains marking the white fresh snow in the mornings when the fighting began once more.

She refused to let the war destroy her love of snow. Not when she got to see it so rarely. Every time felt like a miracle again when the sun reflected off of the powdery surface, the earth sparkling as if covered with diamonds. Those were the memories of snow she wanted to keep. She hoped to make the same true for Jack.

Phryne bent over to grab a handful of the fluffy snow, delighted to discover that it was perfectly sticky for her intentions. She quickly shaped a ball in her hands, grateful for her gloves, and whirled back around to face Jack, who had taken a couple steps forward, kicking up some snow as he walked. She hid the hand holding the snowball behind her back and threw him an innocent look. 

“See, aren’t you enjoying yourself?” she asked brightly.

“It’s not too bad,” he smiled, feeling himself becoming swept up in her enthusiasm. “But then, everything is somehow fun when I’m with you.” 

The statement was sincere and Phryne’s heart fluttered at his words. She was hopelessly in love with this man. She acknowledged his declaration with a loving smile before her eyes turned utterly mischievous and Jack felt something hard hit him square in the chest.

He looked at her, baffled. “Did you... did you just throw a _snowball_ at me, Miss Fisher?

“The question is, what are you going to do about it, Inspector?” she asked provocatively, backing up in preparation. 

_Oh, so that was how it was going to be. _Jack tilted his head and fixed her with his gaze before lurching forward. Phryne squealed and turned to dart away from him, both of their steps hindered by the fluffy snow, rising up around them like clouds. Jack was able to take bigger steps and soon he had caught up to her, grabbing her by the waist and bringing them both onto the ground. Phryne’s scream at being caught turned into a giggle as they rolled around on the cold ground, snow getting into her hair and onto their clothes. 

They stilled to catch their breaths, Jack lying half on top of Phryne, both covered in snow.

“You’re... heavy,” Phryne ground out and gratefully sucked in the cold air when Jack had raised himself off of her, pouting.

“I have more fun, too, when you’re around, you know?” she said softly and Jack couldn’t resist placing a quick kiss on her lips. It was these moments that he treasured and never got tired of. He was hopelessly in love with this woman.

Then Phryne was moving again, wriggling out from underneath his propped up torso and springing to her feet.

“Now, Jack! Have you ever made a snow angel?” she asked, before walking over to an untouched part of the snowy blanket and flopping backwards to the ground, her landing graceful. There really were few situations where she wasn’t graceful. 

Phryne spread out her limbs on all sides, and proceeded to make a wiping motion with them to push away the snow to form an angel shape around her body.

“Join me, Jack!” she yelled and he smiled before getting up to stand next to where she was lying. He dropped himself to the ground as well, landing rather unfortunately on his tailbone. 

“Ouch!” he exclaimed, followed by peal of laughter from Phryne which echoed off of the snowy hills surrounding them. “You’d make a fine angel, Jack. Very elegant.” she giggled.

“I’ll admit I feel more like a fallen angel at the moment," he grumbled, before starting to move his arms and legs like she had. _Alright, so maybe it was fun._

Phryne was still giggling in delight and Jack found a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth as they moved their limbs in tandem. He wished he could have a picture of them like this, bodies in contrast with the snow, the angel shapes surrounding them.

Finally Phryne got up and Jack followed as they came to stand at the foot of their work. 

Phryne wrapped her arms around his waist and he hung an arm over her shoulder, pulling her close. The snow angels really had turned out well. He turned to rest his face on Phryne’s hair only to flinch back and frown when his cheek touched the soaking wet strands.

“You know,” he started. “Now that we’ve had the delightful experience of doing _that, _maybe we could warm ourselves up again. And get dry in the process.”

Phryne turned to him with a sultry look on her face. “I believe you’ll have a hard time getting me dry, Inspector.” 

He raced her back to the cabin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I perused the snow angel entry on Wikipedia for this. Very interesting experience. Did you know that the world record for most people making snow angels at the same time is 8,962? Anyway, hope you enjoyed!


	12. Dragon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SMUT. You have been warned.
> 
> Allison_Wonderland gave me the idea for the drawing after I told her that I hid in the bathroom to avoid an encounter with my grandma (no Jack and definitely no smut followed that, sadly), so thank you!

It was still dark outside when Jack woke up and he wondered for a second what had torn him from his dreams. He turned his head to look at the subject of those dreams and startled when he saw her staring at him from her pillow.

“Wha... _Jesus Christ, _Phryne.” he groaned, voice still heavy with sleep.

“I’m _so_ sorry I woke you...” 

“No you’re not,” he interrupted dryly. 

“...well, alright, maybe I’m not sorry. I’m hungry Jack.”

“Maybe that has to do with your cousin Guy’s fudge you ate at the party last night,” he commented, earning him an eye roll.

“I was thinking... maybe we could go peruse the kitchen together.” Phryne suggested, ignoring his comment about the fudge.

“Oh yes, sneaking around your aunt’s house in our pyjamas _does_ sound like fun.” Jack replied sarcastically.

“No risk, no fun?” Phryne tried, her voice rising about two octaves.She huffed in frustration when he didn’t react, then changed tactics, sliding closer to him underneath the blanket and trailing a finger down his naked chest.

“I’d make it worth your while.” _Damn that sultry voice of hers._

“And would I get my payment now?” he teased. 

“Nonsense, you’ll get it when it’s all said and done, Jack.” Phryne replied and pressed a quick kiss to his mouth before pulling him out of bed with her.

***

The house was dark as they tiptoed out of his room. There had been a lot of drinking the night before and Jack had gladly taken Prudence Stanley's offer of staying the night in one of the guest rooms.It hadn’t taken long for Phryne to knock on his door before crawling into bed with him and even though her aunt would greatly disapprove, Jack found he didn't mind the occasional rule breaking when it ended with Phryne in his bed.

They reached the kitchen without encountering anyone, no wonder as it was the middle of the night, and Phryne immediately spotted some pie on the counter, her eyes lighting up in excitement. Jack looked at her adoringly, then let his eyes appreciatively roam over her backside as she started cutting the pie.

He walked up behind her and Phryne suddenly found herself pressed against the counter, Jack’s warm weight behind and around her as his arms wrapped around her waist. 

“Looks delicious,” he commented over her shoulder, not just talking about the pie, and Phryne playfully wriggled her butt against his front in response. 

“Didn’t I tell you it’d be worth the trip?” she asked teasingly.

“Hmmm yes, I think it will most definitely be worth it.” he murmured, turning his head to press an open mouthed kiss against her neck, feeling goosebumps break out over her skin.

“Jack...” she moaned, then froze when the sound of a door closing rang through the empty halls of the mansion, followed by shuffling footsteps.

“Hello, is anybody there?” the other person called out and their eyes widened simultaneously as they immediately recognized the voice.

Phryne whirled around and quickly dragged Jack to the side door of the kitchen and out into the hallway. Aunt Prudence had been closer than they thought, as they almost ran into the old dragon, a fate which was only avoided by them quickly hiding in one of the bathrooms adjacent to the hall. Phryne closed the door as quietly as possible, moments before they heard Aunt Prudence round the corner and pass in front of it, muttering something underneath her breath. Phryne turned to face Jack and saw the laughter threatening to break out from behind his stern facade. She slapped her hand over her own mouth to muffle the snorting sound she couldn’t quite keep contained. 

“_What_ is your aunt doing up at this hour?” Jack hissed in her ear, his voice a bit high pitched from trying to keep from laughing.

Phryne shrugged, still unable to talk and Jack sighed, plopping himself on the ground next to the sink as they waited and listened for any more movement.

The muttered “Oh, there’s pie!” they heard coming from the kitchen was almost their undoing, Phryne doubling over with laughter, while Jack silently laughed tears, an odd choking sound escaping them every now and then as they tried to remain quiet. They could hear some clattering of plates and silverware, then silence.

Phryne was still trying to calm down when she heard Aunt Prudence approaching again and she quickly moved her index finger to her mouth in a shushing gesture, her eyes wide as the footsteps stopped right in front of the door. They listened with baited breaths, careful not to make a sound, and after a few moments the footsteps started up again, moving further away.

They breathed a sigh of relief when they heard a door open somewhere down the corridor and as soon as the sound of the lock clicking shut rang through the empty hallway, Jack was on his feet, his mouth urgent on Phryne’s, his tongue hot in her mouth as he backed her up against the bathroom door. She moaned in surprise but wrapped her arms around his back, pulling him closer as he continued to plunder her mouth, nipping at her lips with his teeth, the kiss growing more passionate by the second.

Eventually Phryne pulled back, panting heavily. “It seems you like a little risk, Inspector.” she smirked, prompting Jack to pull her back against him to wipe the smirk off her face. Phryne pointedly bit at his lower lip and Jack’s hips bucked into her at the unexpected sensation.

“_I_ think it turns you on, Jack. The danger of being caught _in flagrante delicto_.” Her tongue wrapped itself sinfully around the Latin words. “It’s exhilarating, isn’t it?” 

Phryne’s tone was teasing, while her hips were moving in small circles against his growing erection, taking him swiftly to a breaking point.

“Back to our room, Miss Fisher.”

Jack’s voice was reduced to a low growl, his commanding tone sending a flush or arousal through Phryne. She squeezed her thighs together, then nodded and they half stumbled, half ran, as much as that was possible given Jack’s state of arousal, back to the room.Phryne closed the door rather more forcefully than intended but couldn’t bring herself to care as Jack was on her almost immediately, his hands running down her back over the soft globes of her ass while he backed her up towards the bed, growling against her neck. 

Then Phryne was on her back, Jack on top of her. He grabbed fistfuls of her peach colored nightgown and rucked it up to her waist, leaving her bare and ground himself against her wetness, only the thin barrier of his pyjama bottoms separating them. Phryne gasped into his mouth at the sudden contact and moved her hands lower to grab his ass, pulling him hard into her, tearing a groan from Jack’s throat in return. 

She felt his hands impatiently tugging at her night gown to reveal her breasts and pushed him back by his chest, the sight of him flushed and disheveled, his hair in disarray, predictably causing a tugging sensation deep in her belly.

“Take off your pyjamas, Jack,” she panted before scrambling to her knees to pull off her night gown as he struggled to get his clothes off. As soon as they were both naked, she grabbed Jack by the shoulders and pushed him onto his back before climbing up his body up to straddle his waist, her thighs hugging his hips and her glistening cunt right over his cock which was standing up proudly between his legs.

Phryne lowered herself onto him slowly, her eyes fluttering shut, a shared moan hovering in the air between them as time stood still for a moment.

Jack felt it was a bloody miracle every time he breached her body, felt her warm wetness around him, knowing that it was him who had had the effect on her. He didn’t think he could ever get enough of this woman, her wit, her intelligence, her charm, her body. Phryne.

_Phryne_, who had started drawing light circles with her hips, grinding her clit against the base of his cock. Jack’s hands automatically flew to her hips to aid her efforts, pulling her down onto him hard.

“What are you thinking about?” she gasped, her chest heaving with deep breaths.

“You,” he groaned. “Always you.”

She tightened around him and he thrust up involuntarily, tearing a moan from her.

“_Please_,” Jack could hear himself begging, his voice gravelly, fingers flexing on her hips. “More.”

“God, your voice,” Phryne moaned, the throaty sound like music to Jack’s ears. She began lifting herself up higher and pushing back down. Slow, teasing movements that drove Jack insane. He tried to remain still and let her work, her eyes glassy from pleasure, her mouth open slightly. Her chest was flushed and her nipples tight points that were begging to be sucked on.

He let her move a few more times before bucking up into her and pulling her forward so his mouth could reach her breast, sucking one tight bud tightly into his mouth to feel her spasm around his cock.

“Jack.... yes...Jack.... Oh...,” she whined, moving her hips in small tight circles against him. Her thighs were starting to clench around his hips and he knew it wouldn’t take much more to send her over the edge.

“Come, Phryne,” he growled against her breast and she groaned, pulling his head up so she could kiss him again, tongue thrusting desperately into his mouth. He greedily swallowed the moans that were escaping her as he fucked her steadily from below.

Jack moved his hand to her ass, pulling her tight against him before slapping her ass as hard as he dared, the sound echoing off the walls of the bedroom, sending her tumbling over the edge. She tightened fiercely around his aching cock, tearing a curse from him as he fought to hold off his own climax. Phryne’s face was buried in his neck as she slowly calmed, the spasms subsiding, leaving her lying limply on top of him as Jack whispered praises in her ear of how much he loved her. Loved every part of her being.

Eventually she had recovered enough to sit back up, his hard cock still firmly embedded in her cunt and she started moving again.

“Now Jack,” she said with a sultry smile, “was I wrong in thinking that you like the idea of getting caught?”

Jack couldn’t think with her moving on top of him and jerkily shook his head from side to side.

“No, I didn’t think so,” Phryne continued with a knowing smile. She leaned back to brace herself on his thighs, her back arched, affording him a full view of _everything_. He watched the slide of his cock, as it disappeared into her body, with fascination and tried to focus on what she was saying.

“The thought can be very exciting. Someone walking in on us like this. Seeing what we do to each other.” she moaned and paused and Jack forgot to breathe as he waited for her to continue. “Seeing what _you_ do to me, Jack, how wet you make me, how hard you make me come.”

Jack snapped.

He wrapped his arms tightly, almost forcefully, around Phryne’s waist and flipped her over, throwing her down onto her back before pulling out of her almost completely and plunging back into her, hard.

“Oh _fuck_... Jack!” she cried out, holding on to his arms tightly as she braced herself against his thrusts, her muttered curse almost bringing Jack to climax.

He tilted his hips in the way that never failed to made Phryne come, her hips bucking up helplessly in response to the added friction.

“Oh god, Jack, I can’t...” she whimpered before her orgasm swept over her, the hard clench of her cunt around his cock pulling Jack's own climax from him, his hips snapping forward to bury himself deep inside her wet heat.

Jack collapsed on top of her as she held him tightly, softly stroking over his back and arms, one hand coming up to tangle in his hair. He turned his head to press a soft kiss to her shoulder, as she murmured her approval.

When their breathing had calmed, Phryne spoke. “All this and I’m still hungry. What do you say, Inspector, shall we try and procure some pie?” she grinned, playfully swatting his butt cheek.

Jack pinched her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think, this is my first time writing smut and I feel like I can’t objectively judge how this turned out. And no, I wasn’t at all nervous about posting this, _ she says, sweating nervously _


	13. Ash

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> RL is a bit crazy today so a very short drabble and a drawing that I spent way too much time on and am still not quite happy with. 
> 
> This is supposed to be like an episode add-on/ after fade to black for "Death by Miss Adventure".

He hadn’t meant to stay. But he had lingered after Phryne had dropped Murdoch Foyle’s letter into the fireplace, her sad smile and shiny eyes causing a pinching sensation in his own chest.

He was tired, he should be going, but his heart wanted to stay.

They had sat down on the chaise in front of the fire and watched in silence while the letter was consumed by flames, burning from the outside in until it was gone, reduced to ash. 

And then they had remained seated, thighs almost touching as they watched the flames continue to dance, Phryne’s hand reaching out to grab his, a simple squeeze to show her appreciation for his presence. He squeezed her hand back in return.

When Mr. Butler came to check on them a few hours later he found them sleeping on the chaise and as he took in their sleeping forms in the dark parlour, Phryne’s arm resting on the Inspector’s chest, a warm smile graced the old man’s features.

The ashes of the burnt out fire continued to glow.


	14. Overgrown

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was either going to be very fluffy or very whumpy and for some reason I decided to go all out on the whump. So if you're into that this is for you!  
Happy ending, I promise.
> 
> WW2 centered, brief mentions of concentration camps.

The idea had seemed romantic at the time. Two people, hopelessly in love with each other, carving each other’s initials into a tree somewhere in the French countryside. It was silly but in that moment it had seemed right, the two of them in their little bubble, oblivious, if only for a few hours, to the war that was raging not too far away.

They had sat there for a long time, Phryne’s head resting on Jack’s chest, him leaning back against the tree while he softly stroked his hand down her arm and back, murmuring sweet words of nothing in her ear. 

They held each other tightly, making promises neither could keep, that everything would be alright, that they would both return, that they would be back in Australia before they knew it.

They made love one last time underneath the starry sky, underneath the carved heart on the tree.

When the war was over, they would meet up again. Here. 

*** 

The war ended 4 years later.

Phryne had seen things no person should have to see, let alone endure. Starving children and adults, mass graves, gas chambers with scratch marks on the insides where some had tried to escape the deathly fumes. She had been close to dying herself, at the hands of German bombs, several times. But she had survived. She carried new scars with her, on the inside as well as the outside, but she was alive.

She had returned to the little French village not far from where _their_ tree stood a few months after Germany had surrendered. She had first seen Mac off to return to Melbourne and as soon as she was able to, had been on her way. 

*** 

The first day, Phryne sat at the foot of the tree for hours. The heart above her had faded over the past 4 years, the carving overgrown by ranks of ivy. She listened to the birds and reminisced about the times they had had together. The memory of Jack was what had gotten her through the war. It would get her through waiting, too.

When it got too cold and dark, Phryne headed back to the village.

_He would come back._

The next day she took some food with her and again she waited. When the sun began to set, Phryne carefully unpinned the swallow that had been sitting over her heart for 16 years and placed it on a small rock at the foot of the tree, before she returned to the village.

_He would come back._

After the first week, Phryne began to bring a book with her.

After the third week, she started visiting the tree only every other day. It had become a ritual for her to pick up the swallow pin from the rock to wipe the dust off of it, trace the carved lines on the tree, and read while she waited. At sunset she would leave again. 

Phryne passed the innkeeper on the way to her room, a big round woman with kind eyes, who had been watching her guest with concern for quite some time now. The lady, Mms. Fisher, had seemed rattled by war when she had first arrived, but now there was a new type of heaviness to her walk, the smile she had flashed readily in the beginning seemed to be impossible for her to recreate, and when she wasn’t out -every other day like clockwork-, she was holed up in the small room she had rented. A few days later Mms. Fisher left for the day to head to the next larger town. When she returned later that night, a telegram in her hand, she ran past the front desk and shut herself in her room, sobs sounding through the closed door. The innkeepers heart went out to the woman.

After two months, Phryne started helping out around the inn, waiting on guests and helping in the kitchen, on the days she didn’t go to the tree.

NO WORD FROM JACK STOP IM SORRY PHRYNE STOP MAC

That was all the telegram had said. A painful reminder of what she couldn’t allow herself to think, at the same a reminder that she had to stay strong if she had any hope of seeing Jack again. Phryne tried to push the creeping doubts from her mind with everything she had. It wasn’t true, it couldn’t be true.

_He would come back._

When she visited the tree again the next day, the swallow pin was still sitting where she had left it as it did every time she visited. Untouched, undisturbed because no one had come by. The ivy on the tree now almost completely covered their heart.

Something in Phryne snapped as she lunged to grab fistfuls of the stubborn plant and ripped it from the tree, an agonized scream leaving her lungs. She sunk down heavily onto her knees, unable to keep the tears from streaming down her face.

_What if he didn’t come back?_

*** 

The next few weeks passed in a blur. Phryne felt a numbness she had never experienced before. Every task, every movement difficult and tiring, every interaction hard to bear. At night she had nightmares, Jack shot, hurt, dead, haunting her dreams in an endless brutal cycle.

She telegrammed back and forth with Mac. Her friend wanted her to come back to Melbourne.

_He may never come back, Phryne. _

But she couldn’t leave. Couldn’t abandon him in this godforsaken country if there was any hope that he was still alive. 

***

6 months had passed since Phryne had come to the village. She had let her hair grow and wore the drab clothing the innkeeper had provided to her. She functioned on autopilot. Work in the inn one day, visit the tree the next. Repeat. 

She had carved over the old lines of the heart when it had become too faded, had spent half the day alone on getting the “J” just right. The swallow pin was still sitting on the rock. She had taken it once to get cleaned so he’d know that she had been there recently but every time it was still sitting where she had left it. And every time Phryne returned to the village alone. She didn’t cry anymore.

One night she found herself staring at one of the inn’s kitchen knives with its sharp blade.

_No_.

She flinched back, shocked at her own train of thought. Phryne Fisher did not give up.

She decided to stay another month before she would sail back to Melbourne. She booked two tickets.

***

It was a week before Phryne was due to leave. She had risen at first light and was on her way to the tree, _their tree_, a well-stocked picnic basket provided by the innkeeper dangling on her arm. The old woman meant well but Phryne usually found herself without an appetite and brought the basket back full.

From afar she spotted the familiar shape of the tree before noticing another shape at the foot of it. A brown lump of sorts. As she got closer she could see that it was decently large, and surprisingly human looking and... was it snoring?

Phryne felt her heart hammering in her chest as she dropped the picnic basket she was carrying, the plates inside clattering loudly, the lump unfolding from its curled up position on the ground as Jack shot up, looking around in alert. 

“Ja...” Phryne whispered in disbelief before sobs wrecked her body and she collapsed to the ground, her legs giving out underneath her. And then his arms were around her shaking torso, holding her tight, as he reverently whispered “Phryne” in her ear over and over like a mantra while she continued to sob against his chest.

After a few more moments of immobilizing relief, her arms wrapped around him as well, squeezing him with all the strength she had left, trying to breathe in his scent in between sobs. He smelled like himself, like home, like everything she thought she’d never have again.“I’m sorry,” Jack choked out between his own sobs as they held each other tightly, clutching at each other as if trying to consume the other so they would never have to lose them again.

“I thought...” Phryne spoke weakly when her sobs had calmed. “I thought...”

“I know, Phryne.” he rumbled, his voice even sweeter than she remembered it. The thought of never hearing him say her name again was even more unbearable now than it had been yesterday.

“Me too.” he added and she kissed him, their tears adding a salty flavor to their kiss while the memories of each other’s taste slowly returned, adding fuel to a fire.

When they broke away for air, Phryne cupped Jack’s wet face in her hands, enjoying the strange sensation of his beard underneath her fingertips. He was real. She smiled a real smile for the first time since they had joined the war 4 years ago and she cried again, though this time in relief. Relief at the unimaginable avoided as though by heavenly guidance and Phryne thanked a God she didn’t believe in for bringing Jack back to her.

They stayed like that for a while, kneeling on the ground in the middle of a field, unable to move as they stared in to the other’s eyes, a connection never lost, but interrupted by death and warfare, reignited, unspoken promises behind their entranced gazes. Behind them the carved heart stood out in contrast against the dark bark of the tree, the lines unencumbered by ivy, as if carved merely moments ago.

“Welcome back.” Phryne whispered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some of this may be a bit unrealistic, for which I apologize, I spent a minimal amount of time researching Australia's role in WW2, among other things and I did my best with that information... <3


	15. Legend

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to forget this chapter ever happened because while I like the drawing, I didn't think about what I'd write for it and that about describes this drabble.

_Captain Phryne Fisher was standing onboard The Collingwood Vessel, eyes firmly fixed on the island that was starting to appear on the horizon. Behind her, Janey was firmly steering them toward the approaching shore. _

_Phryne breathed in the salty scent of the air around her, the wind lifting up her hair as the short strands whirled around her head. This was why she had become a pirate. The absolute independence of this life. Restrictions of all sorts were pleasantly absent, all that existed was a sense of freedom. She considered herself to be a pirate of honor, a sort of Robin Hood of the seas. She took from the rich merchant ships and sailed to some poor village to make its inhabitants prosperous and happy for the rest of their lives. She never killed anyone, the sight of the black flag alone enough to end any thought of resistance her victims may harbor. The Collingwood Vessel had become a legend in these parts of the world and the two pirates did their best to keep up the reputation their ship had. Making the world a better place was their mission._

_Phryne snatched one of the telescopes on board and scanned the shore that marked their home. She was excited to be back, she didn’t think she could ever get bored of being here, with Janey at her side. But…sometimes, while they were sailing, Phryne would close her eyes and dream about the boy on the bicycle they had met once along the way, who had told them fantastic tales of his own adventures. One day she’d find him again and invite him to come along with them to their island, protected by unruly waters, so treacherous that the most masterful sailors were deterred from coming their way. Even Captain Flint wouldn’t dare to tread these parts. And that’s the way Phryne liked it._

_ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So anyway apparently this is what happens when I try to "experiment" with writing. I'll go back to regular Phrack tomorrow, lmao. Hope you enjoyed the drawing and for the drabble were able to look past my writing and the fact that bicycles as such did not exist around the 1700s.


	16. Wild

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tbh I didn't even attempt to think of anything besides smut for this prompt. So enjoy the smut! :)
> 
> Also whaaaaat, we're over halfway done which makes me kinda sad but also it's probably good for my sanity.

Sometimes their love-making was sweet and slow. Savoring the other’s taste and textures, trying to draw out their mutual pleasure in a sense of sweet torture.

Today was not one of those times.

Yet another close call on a case had rattled them both to their core and after they had managed to wrestle the guns away from their attackers and had arrested the two criminals, all that was left were adrenaline and unreleased tension boiling underneath their skin. 

The drive to Jack’s bungalow had been fast, he had driven recklessly for his standards but couldn’t bring himself to care, he needed to get her alone, away from other people’s eyes and the look in Phryne’s eyes told him she was having the same thoughts, her hand coming to rest on his upper thigh while they raced down the streets.

How they managed to get through the door remained a mystery to both of them, but they managed to stumble over the threshold, Phryne tearing at Jack’s overcoat while he roughly pulled her to him, hindering her movements but unable to keep from drawing her close, his erection pushing impatiently at her through their clothes. 

They continued to frantically undress each other, buttons and silk ripping in their quest to feel skin, their lips busily devouring each other, teeth biting and nipping while their tongues dueled in their mouths. It was sloppy and hungry, and just what they both needed, the fear of losing one another coupled with anger, at having been in the situation in the first place, lighting a fire between them with a force that neither of them had felt before.

Then the restrictive clothes were gone, finally, shed all over Jack’s front hall. He wasted no time gathering Phryne up and pushing her against the wall, her legs wrapping almost automatically around his hips, grinding down around him and coating his stomach and cock with her arousal. Jack groaned in agony before pushing inside her to the hilt, the air leaving her lungs on a gasp that he eagerly swallowed. 

“Fuck. Me.” Phryne moaned filthily into his ear, scattering all remaining thoughts in Jack’s head. He pulled himself out and slammed back into her with smooth steady strokes, gravity bearing her down even harder on his cock, every downward motion pushing him deep into her body, punctuated by sharp gasps from her as he bumped at her most intimate parts. Jack’s mind was a blank while he fucked her, holding her up by her arse, his face buried in her neck. Phryne’s moans were becoming louder, her thighs starting to quiver while he kept up his relentless rhythm. 

He wanted... no, _needed_ to see her come, feel her clench and pull around him as she tumbled into bliss. His Phryne, as wild and unrestrained now as she was in all areas of her life but these moments he held closest to his heart. These moments where she gave herself over to being pleasured by him, where their connection grew deeper very time, where he was able to make her come and scream his name in ecstasy.

Jack groaned and his rhythm faltered when he felt Phryne plant hot, open-mouthed kisses against his shoulder, her fingers trailing down his back. 

“Harder.” she demanded and Jack ignored his burning muscles as he pushed inside her with all the power he could muster, her fingers on his back turning to claws, nails scratching at his skin as he changed the angle of his thrusts.

The pain on his back stood in exquisite contrast to her soft warmth enveloping his cock and Jack growled a curse before he bit down on Phryne’s shoulder in return, her moans changing in pitch, growing louder and shrill as she started tightening around him, her nails digging into the skin of his back, hard.

“_Fuck_, Phryne...” Jack managed before his own orgasm overtook him, his hips buried deep inside her body while she spasmed and bucked against him, their bodies locked together for what seemed like an eternity before Jack’s knees buckled and he took a few staggering steps toward his sofa, unceremoniously dropping Phryne onto it and coming to rest half on top of her, softly stroking his fingers up her sides.

She looked at him, eyes still glazed over from their encounter, chest heaving with her labored breaths.

“That was...” she started. 

“Intense?” he offered.

“Definitely intense,” she panted happily. “ Intense, hot, wild, passionate... We should have our lives endangered more often, my dear Inspector.”

He pinched her side in reprimand. “I’m quite sure we put ourselves in danger often enough, Miss Fisher.” 

“Well, alright, but I’m not really complaining if it ends like this.” Phryne returned, before pulling him down into another kiss, soft yet dirty, her tongue pushing into his mouth. Jack felt himself hardening once more against her hip, really he didn’t think there would ever come a moment where he didn’t desire her. He grabbed Phryne’s thighs and moved them apart so he could snugly fit his hips in between them, lining up his cock with her wetness once again.

“Ready again so soon, Jack?” Phryne asked seductively in between his kisses before snaking one hand down their bodies to grab him tightly, and Jack couldn’t have answered if he tried.

“I must reiterate, Inspector, we should find ourselves in danger more often,” she murmured and Jack continued to prove her point. 


	17. Ornament

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompts are fun, I try to remind myself. Anyway, some fluff for today.

“If you’d just stop moving so much Jack, I could get this hung up.” Phryne huffed from atop Jack’s shoulders.

“Me? How am I supposed to stay still with you wriggling around up there?” he returned, annoyance coloring his voice.

“Usually you like it when I wriggle around on top of you,” Phryne returned while trying to stretch her arm up as far as it would go.

“Cheeky,” Jack grumbled and tightened his hold on her thighs when she started to move around even more.

“Leave it to you to get the tallest tree in the forest, this thing barely fit in here,” he added for good measure and looked up skeptically at Phryne’s attempts to reach the top.

He _was _right of course, she could have gotten a smaller tree, but this was their first Christmas together as an official couple and as silly as it was, Phryne wanted to make an impression. She had planned everything out to be special and perfect and she had been doing perfectly well with the decorating except for this last ornament. As it turned out, even sitting on Jack’s shoulders didn’t make her tall enough to reach where she wanted to hang the red ball and she huffed in frustration.

Phryne leaned forward just a fraction more, she was so close, just a few more centimeters... Jack muttered a curse as he almost fell over into the tree, his steps restricted by the wide bottom part of it. 

“Come on... just leave it, Phryne, no one will notice if there’s an ornament on the very top branch.” Jack argued, trying to make a reasonable argument. Which, he knew right away, was a mute point as Phryne rarely listened to reason when she had made up her mind about something. In fact trying to talk some sense into her often had the opposite effect.

And damn her if Jack’s comment didn’t spur her on even more. Phryne planted one hand on his face to steady herself before pushing up forcefully and catching him off-balance as he stumbled over his own feet and they tumbled down onto the ground. Jack did his best to cushion Phryne’s fall and succeeded as she landed softly on a pile of sofa cushions. She turned around carefully to see Jack on all fours, huffing out a breath before meeting her eyes.

Phryne judged his expression, expecting anger, which quite frankly would have been reasonable, but instead saw a familiar look of exasperation in his eyes, one she had often seen in the first stages of their relationship. She smiled an apologetic smile and reached out her hand to pull him into a sitting position. They sat in silence for a few seconds, their hands still entwined, before she snorted out a laugh that had been building inside her and that she now wasn’t able to contain any longer. 

“Phryne...” Jack admonished and then chuckled as well, their laughter filling the room for a few happy moments before it died down. 

“I’ll notice.” Phryne murmured then and Jack had to remember what she was answering to.

“What makes this Christmas special is that we’re all here, darling. No one, least of all me, will care about one more ornament on the tree,” he whispered into her hair, pressing a kiss to her temple. It still astonished her how he always seemed to know what she was feeling.

“But I wanted it to be perfect.” she pouted and dropped her head to rest on his shoulder.

“It will be, because we're all together.” He planted another kiss on her head then pulled back, a look over at Phryne telling him she wasn't convinced.

_This woman is going to be the death of me,_ Jack thought to himself, then sighed and stood up, pulling Phryne up alongside him.

“We'll give it one more try. But I’m warning you Phryne, if you make me fall again there _will _be consequences.” he said, underlining his statement with a pinch to her butt. 

Phryne smirked at him before climbing atop the chaise to take her position on his shoulders again. 

Maybe the ornament wouldn’t have to hang at the very top of the tree for this Christmas to be perfect after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Why are my faces sometimes good and sometimes not? I will die trying to figure that out.


	18. Misfit

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Meh. I..... struggled with this prompt so much because it only made me think of negative things. I tried my best with the time I had for this quick little drabble...

Phryne Fisher did not fit the mold society had imposed on women. She resented the mold, resented the fact that it had been created by men who wanted to have perfect little housewives to tend to their every need while the husbands were gallivanting around behind their backs.

So, from an early age on, Phryne Fisher had fought against being bent to fit into this confining set of rules. Society could kiss her arse for all she cared.

And then there were the men, the people who had imposed these rules. Phryne liked men, liked their assets and what they brought to the table. But men liked the mold, as much as they might have tried to deny it. The prospect of an independent woman like Phryne might have been enticing enough for a fling but all too soon every single one of her bed companions had tried to make her fit the mold. Men liked being able to control her as if she was something that needed to be managed. But Phryne Fisher did not bend for any man. 

***

Jack Robinson walked into her life. Jack, who _liked_ that she didn’t fit the mold, appreciated it as her most precious quality, loved every single part of her being without trying to change one bit. And Phryne Fisher felt freer than ever before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's interesting, I'm not sure why I wrote it like this. Because I don't necessarily agree with what I wrote. It's like a _ misfit _ with my brain. Ha, yes that will be my excuse for this.  
(Namely, I don't think of Phryne as a misfit _ but the prompt _ etc.) *shrugs*


	19. Sling

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Very little whump, more fluff.

Phryne turned the corner in a swish of silk, her perfume and the clacking of her heels on the tiles of the hospital floor a warning to Jack, who braced himself in his bed and tried to look as strong and manly as possible. He figured his attempts were rather unsuccessful.

Phryne came to stand at the foot of his bed, hands propped up on her hips, her brows drawn together in anger.

“You got yourself shot.” she stated, matter of factly, her eyes darting to the obvious bandage around his right shoulder and the sling his arm was resting in. 

She couldn’t help breathing out a sigh of relief at the realization that he seemed to be fine, all things considered. Nevertheless the sight of him, disheveled and helpless, tore at her heartstrings but Phryne pushed the feeling aside to make room for her anger.

“I... it seems I did.” Jack returned, somewhat apologetically.

_Why did he feel he had to apologize to her? He didn’t owe her an explanation for doing his job._

“All part of the job, Miss Fisher, now if you’d like to leave again...” he motioned to the door with his good arm.

She huffed in indignation and ignored his hint to leave before coming around the bed to sit next to him, the mattress dipping down beneath her weight, her beautifully rounded... _NO,_ her very normal and not at all distracting, behind touching his thigh. Jack swallowed at her proximity, his usual layers of defense, namely his three-piece suit, absent at the moment for he was only wearing the thin shirt the hospital had provided to him.

For a quick moment he mused that Phryne’s mere presence seemed to distract him from his pain much more efficiently than the pain medication, before rolling his eyes at his own thoughts as he tried to compose himself. He needed to be alert if he was to have an argument with her.

“I’d very much _not_ like to leave, Jack. You gave Hugh quite a fright.” 

Jack remained silent.

“Oh alright, you gave _me_ quite a fright as well, Jack. All I got was a call from Hugh saying you’d been shot.” She turned her head, breaking eye contact. “He didn’t know how bad it was so I... I didn’t know...” she trailed off. 

Jack looked down to where her hands were tightly clasped together in her lap and gave in to the urge to reach out to grab her hand. The angle was awkward but he squeezed her fingers. He remembered another time, at her kitchen table, when they had held hands and he hoped he could convey the same kind of comfort he had back then. Phryne held on to his hand tightly, gently tracing the tendons on the back of it with her other hand.

“I’m okay, Phryne. The bullet didn’t hit anything of importance I’ve been told,” he started carefully.

“Oh well, in_ that _case it’s all _fine and dandy_,” Phryne replied sarcastically, her voice rising in pitch. “In fact, why not get shot again if you’re so bullet proof.”

She knew she was being unreasonable but she couldn’t help herself. He’d scared her, more than she thought he could, and she wasn’t sure how to deal with the amount of unwanted feelings this realization brought with it.

“Phryne, I... what do you want me to say? I’m a police officer, these things happen,” he stated softly.

“Well, I don’t like this part of the job.” Phryne replied, looking into his eyes again. Jack swallowed when he met her gaze. He hadn’t felt like this in a long time. Cared for, loved, and desired, all emotions he thought he could detect in her gaze. He hoped he wasn’t imagining things.

“Promise me you’ll be more careful from now on,” she whispered and reached one hand up to stroke an errant curl from his forehead, unperturbed by Jack’s sharp intake of breath when her fingers touched his face.

“For the record, I don’t like it either when you get beat up by some late night intruder, Miss Fisher.” He replied, trying to get back onto even footing. 

“All part of the job, Jack,” she shrugged, using his own words against him. He tilted his head in admonishment.

“I guess we’ll both have to be more careful.” Phryne murmured, drawing teasing circles across his palm with her fingers. She hesitated before drawing his hand up to her face to plant a soft kiss on his knuckles. Jack watched her movement as if entranced, then cleared his throat.

“How very... gallant of you, Miss Fisher.” 

They stared at each other for a few long moments, then Phryne smirked and gave his hand one more squeeze before pulling back. An expression of utter delight crossed her face.

“In the meantime, Inspector, you’ll have to find someone to take care of you.”

“I... I do?” Jack asked, perplexed and dreading her next words.

“Why yes, you can’t move your right arm, Jack, you won’t be able to do all sorts of things! And, as you know, I was a nurse during the war and an excellent one at that!” she proclaimed with a grin that sent a flutter through his stomach.

Then she twirled around and was out the door as quickly as she had arrived, only the scent of her perfume and the warmth of her touch lingering around him.

Jack dropped his head back against the headboard. He was in for a very long recovery.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I struggled with the drawing so much and eventually decided to just post it before I could get started on redoing the entire face. Ahhh.


	20. Tread

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay. I'm actually proud of this and happy with it, is this finally the mental break I've been working towards?  
But seriously, I hope you enjoy, I'd describe this drabble experiment as a whumpy look at Phrack's relationship.
> 
> A GIANT thank you to @acrazyobsession who, after I had no idea what to do with this prompt, provided me with the Yeats poem. THANK. YOU.

_“I have spread my dreams under your feet;_

_Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.”_

W.B.Yeats

***

Sometimes it scared Jack how much he loved her.

How he spent every waking moment thinking of her, his heart leaping in his throat every time he laid eyes on her. It was unlike anything he had ever experienced. This all encompassing love, blending out everything else around them. When he held her in his arms he was at peace, happy, content to stay like this forever. The want he had felt for her in the beginning had transformed into a need. He now felt as if he couldn’t breathe, couldn’t live without her by his side, the thought of losing her tearing his heart to shreds. She held his heart in her hands, could do with it as she pleased, a privilege he gladly gave over to her, trusting her not to step on it. For if she did he would be destroyed.

***

Sometimes it scared Phryne how much she loved him.

She had built her life around her independence, doing as she pleased and what she wanted, not relying on anyone else in the process. She loved, of course, she loved Dot and Jane and everyone else in her little family with all her heart. But Jack. Jack with his stern exterior and gentle heart, with his understanding and appreciation for _her, _had worked his way into her heart without her even noticing. But now he was there, had tattooed himself into her flesh, was a part of her as much as she was a part of herself. If he chose to walk away he would tear that piece of herself out of her, would pull her apart with little hope of ever being put back together again.

***

When had this happened, when had their hearts become tied together as one?

When had their lives, their hopes become reliant on the other's presence?

When had they gained power over the other’s heart and soul?

***

What if she got bored of him?

_But didn’t he know that he was the most exciting thing to ever happen to her?_

What if he wanted more than she could give?

_But didn’t she know that she was everything he could ever need?_

***

She trusted him not to crush her heart. He trusted her not to destroy his. For now that was all they could do, their unspoken promise to each other.

They moved closer together.


	21. Treasure

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> RL Monday vibes hindered my progress on this just a teensy bit. 
> 
> It's a bit silly or maybe not if you're in the right mindset for it. :)

Phryne Fisher wouldn’t describe herself as a sentimental person. She’d given up on sentimentality long ago when she had realized that hanging on to memories and things would only cause her pain. Especially the material items she dispensed of quickly when she didn’t need them any longer.

Janey’s ribbon was an exception. It had brought Phryne more pain than anything else ever could but she had needed it as a reminder to keep on fighting. The ribbon had found its place in her handbag, always by her side.

When Detective Inspector Jack Robinson gave her his card, she had kept it as a resource because she suspected that knowing someone in the police force would come in handy. Even better if that someone was a rather civilized detective. The card found its place on her dressing table.

A few months later, she returned home from a football game, the memory of a certain detective’s hands pulling her closer by his scarf still fresh in her mind. The scarf found its place in a box underneath her bed.

Then, an investigation of a young boy’s disappearance, a long lost swallow pin returned to her, gently pinned to her scarf. The pin found its place on her nightstand.

A badge saved for Buffalo Bill, now deeming her honorary constable. The gift meaning so much more. The badge found its place with the scarf, safely tucked underneath Phryne’s bed.

Weeks later, a goodbye on an airfield. The card and the ribbon in her pocket, the swallow pin in place on her flying scarf, the badge and the scarf in her bag.

Jack Robinson in front of her.

One kiss, too short to satisfy the fire inside, but a beginning. The memory of it found its place in her heart.

This was Phryne Fisher’s treasure and she’d protect it at all costs.


	22. Ghost

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I spent way too much time on all of this but whatever. Some whump (are you happy now @acrazyobsession??? :D) and silly fluff.

Coming home to Phryne was Jack’s favorite part of the day. Even though he saw her in his office often enough, she usually left the station at a reasonable time while he had to finish up paperwork before he could be on his way. He sometimes felt like a puppy, always excited to see her, even if they had last been together only a couple of hours before.

Today she had not been by the station and Jack was eager to hold her in his arms again, the memory of something they hadn’t been able to finish this morning returning to the forefront of his mind as he entered Wardlow.

She was sitting in the parlor in her red robe, reading a book which she put down when he entered. An affectionate smile crossed her face as he walked over to her and bent down to give her a kiss, the scent of her, so uniquely Phryne, wafting over him. 

“You made it.” she breathed when their lips parted, holding him close by his shoulders where her hands had landed during their kiss.

“It was a close call, I was nearly swallowed alive by that mountain of paperwork.” Jack winked. He disentangled himself from her and shrugged off his suit jacket before sitting down next to Phryne and pulling her back against his chest. She laid her head against his shoulder, her nose turned towards his neck while he began drawing lazy circles over her arm and waist, enjoying the feeling of the silk underneath his fingertips.

“I missed you,” she murmured, inhaling deeply as his scent never failed to comfort her, while her hand began trailing up and down his thigh.

“I missed you too,” Jack replied, turning his head so his nose was buried in her hair. He felt a warmth spread through his limbs and felt perfectly content to stay like this forever. “So how was your day?” he finally asked.

Phryne was uncharacteristically silent for a moment and her fingers stopped their journey on his thigh. Finally she spoke. “I thought I saw René today.”

Jack’s hand at her side froze but he kept quiet, waiting for her to continue.

“I know...” she started. “I know he’s dead. I don’t believe in ghosts. Yet, there he was, standing on the street corner and my heart just... stopped.” Jack squeezed his arm around her waist tighter. 

“And when the man turned around and I saw it wasn’t him I was so relieved... it was quite ridiculous, Jack, I almost started laughing hysterically right there on the street.”

Jack pressed a gentle kiss to her hair and reached out with his free hand to grab hers, softly squeezing it and letting his thumb caress her skin.

“Is that why you didn’t drop by the station today?” he asked softly and felt her nod against his chest.

“I was feeling rather rattled after that encounter. I didn’t want you to worry.” She absentmindedly trailed her fingers across the tendons on the back of his hand as she spoke, avoiding eye contact.

“I always worry about you, Phryne.” Jack spoke softly. “I worry even more when you feel like you can’t come to me at anytime.”

Phryne shrugged. “I just... I don’t understand why he still haunts me. After all this time. It feels like his ghost is trying to make my life as miserable as he did when he was still alive.”

“I thought you didn’t believe in ghosts,” Jack teased lightly, trying to push down his anger and hatred for the man who had hurt her so, for it wouldn’t help matters. 

“Not in theory,” she sighed, glancing up at his face.

“For the record, I think it’s quite normal to be haunted by monsters in your past.” Jack murmured softly. “It doesn’t make you insane, certainly not hysterical, it just makes you _human_, Phryne.”

“What, it doesn’t concern you that I see dead people?” she replied with a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth and Jack breathed out a sigh of relief. She would be okay.

“I’d expect nothing less from Phryne Fisher.” he acknowledged with a smirk and she stretched forward to kiss him again, a soft warm touch lighting his veins on fire. Before she could deepen the kiss, however, Jack pulled himself back and was met with a disappointed pout from Phryne. He tried to ignore the overwhelming desire to keep kissing her and stood up.

He had a plan for how to cheer her up and it didn’t just involve taking her upstairs.

“How about some tea?” he suggested innocently and after her obvious initial surprise at the timing of his suggestion, Phryne nodded and made herself comfortable in the chaise while Jack disappeared into the kitchen.

***

He returned a short time later, without the tea, a serious look on his face and one arm behind his back. Phryne sat up in concern.

“What’s the matter?”

“I met someone in the kitchen.” Jack replied, trying to keep a straight face.

“What? Who?” Phryne asked in alarm, confused why he was so calm.

“A very special someone who would like to meet you.” Jack continued and noted the moment the alarm in her eyes gave way to wary caution. He fought a grin as he saw the cogs turning in her head.

“I see.”

“Yes, in fact he’d very much like to talk to you about something.”

Phryne’s brows furrowed in confusion as she played back their conversation in her head. She eyed Jack carefully as he moved to sit back down beside her, his one hand still hidden behind his back.

“And where would this mysterious someone be hiding?” she asked, dreading the answer even before Jack finally pulled his hand out from behind his back. Phryne stared at it, wide-eyed.

“What, in heaven’s name is _that_, Jack?” she asked in a high pitched voice, unable to keep the tremor in her voice, caused by the laugh bubbling up inside her chest, contained.

“This is Eddie,” Jack said seriously, keeping up his game. “Eddie, Miss Fisher. Miss Fisher, Eddie,” he introduced them, holding out one corner of the napkin draped over his hand for Phryne to shake.

She looked at him incredulously, then reached up two fingers to shake the ghost’s hand. _The napkin’s corner_, she had to remind herself. She was now entirely unable to stop the smile that was pulling at the corners of her mouth.

“Nice to meet you _Eddie_,” she decided to play along. “So... does he talk as well?” she addressed Jack who tilted his head in answer before taking a deep breath.

“Why yes of course I talk,” Jack started speaking in a high pitched voice, so entirely unusual and unheard of from him that Phryne squealed in delight, slapping her hand over her mouth to keep her laughter somewhat contained.

“You see Miss, I heard you saying that you had met a ghost and I just wanted to let you know, we’re usually quite friendly.” The high pitched voice was getting scratchy as Jack’s throat was getting sore and Phryne had trouble concentrating on what the napkin was saying, too distracted by her own laughter and Jack’s vocal attempts.

“Can’t let one bad apple ruin the entire bunch, you know?” the ghost, Eddie, kept going and in between sucked in breaths, Phryne finally reached out her hand to pull the napkin from Jack’s arm. Without having to look at the poor excuse for a ghost, she could finally breathe again, her abdominal muscles feeling delightfully sore after laughing so hard. She took a few shuddering breaths to recover and started chuckling again when she saw the napkin now lying limply on the ground.

“Aw, you chased him away,” Jack pouted, though the pout didn’t stay for long as his arms were suddenly full of Phryne, her lips sweet on his, her tongue hot in his mouth.

“Thank you.” she breathed in between kisses, her arms twining around his neck to keep him close to her as if he would ever dream of moving away. He hugged his arms around her waist in return, holding her tight while she placed small butterfly kisses all over his face and neck.

“I still don’t believe in ghosts, though.” Phryne smirked before biting down on his right earlobe, squealing when Jack stood up and hoisted her over his shoulder.

“Don’t let Eddie hear you say that,” he admonished her, before carrying her out of the parlor and up the stairs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am stupidly happy with how proud Jack looks of his "ghost"


	23. Ancient

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This has a few random history facts that are there solely because of the fact that I waited in line for 5 hours to get into the Colosseum and learn about the history of it so I thought I'd share the joy. ;) I really did try to list the fun facts though.
> 
> The drawing completely took on a mind of its own and I decided that I could only stand it in the black and white version, this month really is all over the place stylistically... :)
> 
> Enjoy!

“This is... incredible.”

Quite frankly, Jack was at a loss for words as they stood on the small viewing terrace, the Colosseum towering over them like a giant. He still could not quite believe that he was standing here, seeing this masterpiece of human architecture in person.

But here he was, with Phryne, or maybe because of her, one more stop on their journey through Europe on their way back to Australia.

He glanced over at the love of his life, who seemed to be just as entranced as he was by the colossal building in front of them and he gently took her hand in his.

“It’s beautiful,” she finally replied, squeezing her fingers around his. “It’s beyond comprehension how something this magnificent could have been built in ancient times, isn’t it?”

“Agreed. Did you know that when they built it the entire facade was covered with marble? On the outside as well as the inside,” Jack recalled what he had read in one of his history books.

Phryne threw him a sideways smirk. “No, I didn’t. But lucky for me I have a walking encyclopedia with me,” she teased gently, swaying into him.

“Ha, ha. The whole history of the Colosseum is fascinating, I’ll have you know.” he pouted.

“Come now, Jack, don’t be like that. I really do appreciate your historical knowledge. Tell me something else that’s worth knowing about it,” Phryne tried to appease him. Jack thought for a moment, then pulled her closer by her waist, his arm securely wrapped around her as she rested her head on his shoulder to listen to him talk.

“Well,” he began, “it is said that the emperor Titus filled the entire structure with water to show off swimming horses and bulls.”

Phryne gasped. “How fascinating!”

“Hmm, yes,” Jack hummed against her ear. “Of course he also sacrificed about 10,000 gladiators and 45,000 exotic animals during the inaugural celebration.”

Phryne shuddered at that. “What a waste. Especially of those gladiators.” Jack rolled his eyes.  
“You know..” she continued as she turned in his arms to face him. “I bet you would have made a fine gladiator, Jack.”

“Gladiators were usually prisoners who fought to their deaths, Phryne,” he replied dryly. 

“Must you always take everything I say so literal,” she grinned. “In any case, you would have looked very attractive in the outfit. Or, lack thereof.”

“So you would have sent me into the arena to fight lions, just so you could see me _sans_ shirt?” he teased.

“You’re forgetting about your gorgeous thighs.” Phryne smirked in reply. “But no, I suspect even in ancient times I would have much rather have kept you all to myself, just like I do now.” 

“Phryne...” he rumbled, not sure where he wanted the sentence to go but wanting to say her name anyway. 

“Jaaaaaack," she started, trailing a finger down his chest. "I bet we could find you a fine gladiator costume once we’re back home. And then you can show off your skills in a _private _performance.” 

She was in full flirting mode now and Jack had to remind himself that they were in a public place, in front of the Colosseum, no less. They really should be enjoying the architecture.

“That way I can show you just how well I can handle a wild creature?” he suggested instead, a knowing smirk on his face. He delighted in the way Phryne’s eyes widened in pleasant surprise.

“If you think you’re up to the challenge,” she huffed in return. 

“Never let it be said that I turned down a challenge,” Jack replied. “For now though, I’d very much like to kiss the woman I love, if that’s alright with you?” 

Her answer was obvious in the way she pulled him towards her by his lapels, his hands landing on her waist while hers rested against his chest. Their kiss was chaste -they _were_ in public after all-, but sweet. Jack could happily drown in her kisses he thought, as they broke apart again. 

“Should we go inside?” Phryne asked with a tender smile and chuckled at the way Jack’s eyes lit up at the suggestion.

“If only you were as excited about the costume as you are about ancient civilizations,” she grinned and linked her arm with his as she dragged him to the ticket booth at the entrance.


	24. Dizzy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank goodness I decided to drabble along with the art, otherwise today really wouldn't have made sense. Tipsy Phrack is something I don't think I could ever get enough of. <3

“Shhhhhh... Jack,” Phryne whispered in a fit of giggles as they stumbled their way down the corridor.

“Why am I the one being shushed? You’re the one who is going to wake up the entire household,” Jack answered quietly, undermining his argument by promptly running into a side table and sending several items clattering to the ground. 

Phryne snorted out a laugh as Jack tried to right himself again.

“Are you sure it’s a good idea for us to be drinking _more_ champagne?” he questioned honestly as they kept on making a bee line to the bar.

“It’s _always_ a good idea to drink more champagne, Jack,” Phryne answered, trying to throw him a coy look over her shoulder which resulted in her momentarily losing her balance and stumbling sideways into the wall.

“Ooooops,” she laughed and held on tightly to Jack’s arm when he jumped to help her.

“Maybe we shouldn’t drink the champagne _right now_, I’m feeling a bit dizzy,” she admitted sheepishly when she stood on both feet again, swaying lightly back and forth.

“You don’t say.” Jack commented, feeling equally dizzy, though around Phryne he could never be quite sure if it was the alcohol or her presence fogging up his senses.

“However... we should go steal it anyway so we’ll have it in case we need it,” Phryne grinned and turned, as smoothly as she could manage, to keep going towards the house bar. Jack followed her with a shake of his head, a movement he immediately ceased as it made the walls spin even more around him.

When he reached the bar counter, Phryne was already behind it, crouching down to reach the champagne bottles stored on one of the lower shelves. He watched her sway on her feet just before she lost her balance and tumbled forward, landing sideways on her arse.

“Ouch!,” she giggled before determinedly grabbing one of the expensive bottles and handing it back to Jack. She turned around to reach for another one.

“Don’t you think one bottle will be enough?!” Jack asked, wondering just when she thought they’d have the time to drink two more bottles of champagne. He briefly wondered why he had come along on this mission in the first place, trying to ignore the creeping suspicion that he would go anywhere with her if she asked nicely enough. Jack decided he was too tipsy to explore that realization at the current moment and refocused on her as much as he was able to.

“As I said,” Phryne replied, flashing a brilliant smile at him over her shoulder, “it’s always a good idea to be drinking more champagne.”

She looked quite adorable sitting on the ground in her emerald evening gown, uncharacteristically tipsy and clumsy, and Jack couldn’t stop the grin that crossed his face.

“You’re incorrigible,” he admonished.

“You love it,” Phryne returned before attempting to rise back up on her feet, an endeavor doomed to fail given her current lack of balance.

“Either you help me get up,” she laughed, “or I’ll have to stay here to be discovered by staff in the morning.”

Jack rolled his eyes at her, though he couldn’t bring himself to be truly annoyed, and he walked around the counter on unsteady feet to pull her off the ground. However, Jack failed to account for the clumsiness of his movements, the momentum of his pull launching Phryne into him and sending both of them to the ground in a heap of laughter.

“We really should get back up,” Jack chuckled after a moment, the room spinning even harder around him in this new horizontal position.

“Aw, but it’s comfortable here,” Phryne answered from her perch atop his chest, her cheek resting on his tuxedo. 

“It will be even more comfortable in bed,” Jack tried to convince her, as well as himself, as he was frankly lacking motivation to move. “Come on, up we get, Miss Fisher.”

It was a struggle to get on their feet again, the process hindered by the continuous giggles that threatened to send them toppling over again, but eventually they managed and Phryne stumbled back over to the second bottle she had left on the ground.

Jack moved without thinking, or maybe some part of him _was_ thinking, to help steady her so she wouldn’t fall a second time and his hands landed on her hips, rather splendidly aligning their bodies.

“Now there’s an idea we should explore further,” Phryne taunted as she straightened back up and nudged her behind into him, Jack’s fingers on her hips tightening on reflex as his mind went blank for a second. When he could think again, Phryne was already halfway out the door. She paused in the doorway, learning from past mistakes and holding onto the solid door frame before turning to look back at him with a wink.

“Don’t forget your champagne, Inspector.”


	25. Tasty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't even know what happened here, honestly. The "drabble" turned into 2,300 words of smut.  
E rated. Hope you enjoy, I was having the time of my life writing this, lmao.

Jack had to resist the impulse to loosen his tie when Phryne entered his office as it suddenly felt restrictive around his neck. It was late, very late, case files strewn across the desk in front of him. He couldn’t help but be relieved at the distraction she provided. And really, even though he might pretend to be grumpy when she interrupted him but he was always glad to see her. Especially when she brought him food which is what he hoped was happening as she had a picnic basket with her.

Phryne was dressed in what had to be one his favorite blouses of hers, the sheer one she had worn that time when he had kissed her in that Café. The memory of the blouse, as well as the kiss, was still very much present in Jack’s mind and he had to remind himself that he was not in fact alone in his bed at the moment and he tried to push the thought aside. The blouse really did leave little to the imagination though, and when Phryne shrugged out of her coat and sat down on her edge of the desk, Jack swallowed before looking up at her.

“How can I help you, Miss Fisher?” he asked, trying to keep a clear mind as the scent of her perfume surrounded him. He often wondered where she applied it, surely it couldn’t envelop her entire being if she just dabbed it on her neck and wrists? Realizing that his current train of thought could lead to a rather uncomfortable position for him, Jack quickly tried to distract himself by looking at the picnic basket Phryne had set down behind her.

“No need to fret, Jack, today I’m the one helping you!” she announced cheerfully. “I have brought you dinner.” With that she whipped out a dish of gratin out of the basket and held it out to Jack, who, after only a moment’s hesitation, reached out to grab the dish from her. He couldn’t remember the last time he had had a proper meal. Certainly not since this investigation had started. Phryne watched in amusement as he devoured the gratin and looked over some of the files on his desk.

“So how is the case coming?” she inquired and waited for him to swallow before he could answer.

“Slow. Uncooperative witnesses, not enough evidence, you know the drill.” He took another bite.

“Would you like another set of eyes on the matter?” Phryne asked sincerely and was delighted when he shrugged and nodded towards the files, giving her permission to look through them.

She flicked through several pages while Jack finished the gratin, her brow furrowing in concentration.

“I have to say, Miss Fisher, I’m surprised you haven’t tried to wheedle your way into this investigation yet. I expected you to swing by days ago,” Jack spoke when he had finished chewing.

“Did you miss me?” she asked teasingly, throwing a smirk his way.

“A little,” he admitted, enjoying the way her eyes widened in surprise. He liked to throw her off her game every once in a while. However, Phryne wouldn’t be Phryne if she let herself be thrown off for long. 

She smiled and reached behind her into the basket again to pull out a plate of the most delicious looking brownies Jack had ever seen.

“Some dessert, Inspector?” she smirked as she took his in hungry look. The man’s appetite really did seem to be bottomless. Jack grabbed one of the fluffy squares and took a bite, the most animalistic sounding groan emanating from his throat as the flavors burst on his tongue. 

Phryne’s smirk dropped from her face at once, the teasing look in her eyes replaced by one of pure lust, his grumbling moan sending sparks of pleasure through her body, ending low in her belly. His moan had brought up images of him in other situations, above her, inside her, when he would be as unleashed and passionate as he was when eating. At least that was what Phryne liked to imagine. And Jack Robinson had featured prominently in her imagination over the past few months. She stared at the man in front of her and hoped she would one day get the chance to find out if her suspicions of his passions in the more carnal areas of life were true.

Jack finished the brownie, moaning a few more times, before looking back up to her, startled by the dark desire he saw in her face.

“Jack...” she whispered, feeling herself stripped bare under his gaze, and set down the plate onto the desk again, shifting her legs subtly.

“I...” Jack wasn’t sure what he wanted to say, a flush reddening his cheeks and ears. The look in Phryne’s eyes combined with her husky voice had hardened his cock significantly and his trousers were quickly becoming uncomfortable. God, how he wanted her. He longed to just stand up and take her, right here on his desk, not caring if anyone walked in on them. Once again he wondered why he denied himself his greatest pleasure. Why did he insist on keeping his distance when she was all he thought about, all he wanted? Jack made his decision.

He stood up quickly, trousers drawn taught over his erection and stepped close to Phryne, caging her in with his hands on either side of her hips. Her eyes went wide and her breath hitched as he encroached on her space, his mouth by her ear, nuzzling into her hair.

“Phryne,” he rumbled and was pleased to notice her shiver.

“Your... your _voice_ Jack. Your _moan,_” she whispered, her hands coming up to caress his chest through his layers, lightly gripping and stroking his tie, down his lapels, over his waistcoat, restrained in her movements while she waited for him to make a move.

“The brownies happened to be very tasty,” he mumbled before pressing a kiss right below her ear, groaning as the flavor of her skin hit him, far more delicious than any brownie he had ever eaten.

His mouth opened again on its own accord, trailing hot, furious, open-mouthed kisses down Phryne’s neck, her hands finally moving unrestrained, clutching at his back as she tried to pull him closer still. Jack pressed up against her, pushing his clothed erection into her equally clothed heat, both of them moaning as they made contact. Phryne began moving her hips in small circles, grinding herself against him and threaded her fingers through his hair to pull his head up so she could finally kiss him, tangling her tongue with his. Their lips clashed, all finesse stripped from their kiss as their hips rutted against each other wildly, hands exploring whatever part of the other they could reach. Phryne grabbed onto Jack’s arse to pull him closer while he covered her breast with his large hand, her back arching into his touch. Finally Jack had to break away to catch his breath, staring down at what was now a very disheveled looking Phryne Fisher, lipstick smeared around her mouth, hair in disarray, panting just as heavily as he was. Jack decided that this was his favorite look of hers.

Their hips were still moving against each other, lightly pressing and releasing in a rhythm that drove Jack wild and he thrust against her harder to hear her moan, her legs coming up to wrap tightly around his hips.

“Please, Jack,” she moaned, leaning forward to press another kiss on his neck, her tongue sliding hotly against his skin as his head fell forward.

“I need to... I need to lock the doors,” he heard himself saying as he gave into this insanity. He had imagined his first time with Phryne Fisher to happen elsewhere than in his office but it was late, the station was as good as deserted, and he was going nowhere with the erection he was currently sporting. He had waited long enough for this.

Reluctantly, and with a desperate moan, Phryne released him and watched him as he hurried to lock the doors, one of her hands coming down to rest over her breast, lightly pinching her nipple through her clothes. Jack growled and was back at her side in an instant, his mouth hot on hers as he swatted her own hand away from her breast, pinching her nipple more firmly and feeling her gasp into his mouth.

“Phryne...” he murmured, running his hands up and down her thighs and around her backside to grab as much of her arse as he could. “Take these off,” he commanded and pulled at the waistband of her trousers before stepping back to let her undress while he undid his tie and waistcoat. He helped her slide the garment down her legs and gulped at the sight of a partially undressed Phryne splayed out on his desk, pale pink knickers covering her most intimate parts while her blouse was still on, though it was creased from his ministrations to her breast. Her chest was heaving as she watched him breathlessly, awaiting his next move.

Jack stepped forward and grabbed onto her legs, pushing her thighs apart so he could fit in between them. He lightly let his fingers trail up her inner thighs while she squirmed under his touch, dropping back to support herself on her elbows as she watched his face.

“Do you know,” he began, looking into her eyes with a hunger rivaling the one he had expressed at the brownies. “I have been wanting to taste you ever since I saw you in that Turkish bathhouse.”

Phryne moaned at his words, a flush creeping up her neck. “Well now’s your chance, Inspector.” she teased breathlessly.

Jack tilted his head before diving his fingers underneath her knickers, stroking through her wet folds, marveling at her slickness. Phryne dropped back onto the desk, hips arching into his touch, wanting more pressure. He lightly trailed his hand through the soft curls on her mound, then circled around her clit before sinking one finger into her. He was impossibly hard, his cock twitching as he felt her wetness coat his hand, and reached down with the other hand to grab himself as he added another finger to her slick heat.

“More, Jack... please... your tongue,” Phryne begged again, her voice barely more than a whimper. Jack didn’t let himself be asked twice as he bent over and pressed his mouth to her clit, licking against its underside before strongly suckling the small nub into his mouth, Phryne’s hips bucking against his face in response. He curled the hand that had been gripping his cock around her thigh to hold her open and still for him as he worked, curling his fingers that were still in her passage while he trailed his tongue up and down her folds, eagerly lapping up the fluids that were escaping her as she moaned and writhed above him. He glanced up her body to notice that her hands had moved to her breasts, squeezing and pulling her nipples along with the thrusts of his fingers.

“You’re beautiful,” he rasped out and bit down on the flesh of her inner thigh, eliciting a gasp from her as she raised her head to look at him with glazed eyes, the sight of him between her legs making her clamp down around his fingers.

“Jesus _fuck_, Phryne,” Jack cursed and dove back into her with his tongue, focusing his attentions on her clit again while he added a third finger, pressing into her and exploring her inner walls until he found the spot that made her keen.

“_Oh my god_, Jack,” she groaned as her hips started rising up off the desk helplessly, meeting his mouth and fingers as she climbed toward her orgasm, one hand flying down to tangle in his hair, pressing his mouth harder to her.

“God, Phryne,” Jack growled into her, the sound muffled by her wet flesh but the vibrations racing through her as if he had shouted. She started spasming around his fingers, against his tongue, in an earth-shattering climax, her thighs clenching around Jack’s head. He was surrounded by her, his senses overloaded by the smell, and taste, and feel of her as she rode out her pleasure. He continued stroking his fingers in and out of her body, lightly licking at her as she came down, her thighs starting to relax around his head, twitching when he swirled his tongue over her over-sensitized clit again. He would have happily stayed between her legs, tasting her, forever, but Phryne eventually pulled his head away from her dripping flesh with a choked out laugh.

She sat up to kiss him hungrily, her tongue thrusting into his mouth much like his fingers had thrust into her, as she tasted herself in the kiss and Jack felt his arousal, which he had managed to ignore while pleasuring her, roar back up, his cock straining painfully against his clothes. Phryne smiled in between her kisses and licked across his chin to clean her fluids from there as well while her hand drifted down to his waistband, starting to undo his belt.

“Poor Jack,” she said as her fingers trailed lightly over his erection, his hips thrusting involuntarily into her touch.

“You know, I’ve been wanting to taste you ever since we met in Lydia Andrews’ bathroom,” she smirked, before pushing Jack into his chair and dropping to her knees between his spread legs. She proceeded to taste him thoroughly. 


	26. Dark

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For Miss_Ash's prompt (and I quote): "an AU evil Phrack... murder couple"
> 
> So... you know what you're in for with this AU, though I couldn’t bring myself to make them entirely evil. This was actually a really fun writing exercise and desperately needed as I had the worst creative block of my life today and this prompt saved me and gave me something to post.
> 
> Enjoy?

They were a well coordinated team by now.

Phryne entered the club while Jack waited around the back, a brick firmly in hand, a smile on his face at the knowledge of what was to come.

Phryne immediately spotted their target when she walked through the door. He turned towards her, eyeing her up and down, a lascivious grin on his face. He was ugly in all senses of the word, his face disfigured from one too many boxing fights, with a big scar running down the side of his face. Scarface, as she decided to call him, was just how she had imagined him to be. He wouldn’t be grinning in a few minutes, Phryne thought to herself, smugly. She threw him a shy smile and walked towards the bar, ordering herself a drink. As she waited at the counter, she suddenly felt a presence beside her. Good.

“How are ya this evening, sweetheart?” Scarface asked her, leaning too close for comfort, his stinky, alcoholized breath wafting over Phryne. She resisted the urge to gag and kept the shy smile on her face.

“Fine, mister,” she answered demurely, only glancing at him before quickly looking down at the counter again.

“How about a dance?” the man continued, trailing a finger over her exposed shoulder.

Phryne had to suppress a grin. This was going to be easier than she had anticipated.

“Maybe just the one,” she replied shyly, and let Scarface guide her onto the dancefloor. He immediately placed his hand too low on her back and his touch quickly grew forceful over the course of the song, one hand clutching hers too tightly while the one on her back roamed down her backside to cup the swell of her arse.Phryne only slightly nudged his hand back up, ignoring the urge to kick him between the legs. She needed him to think she was weak.

As soon as the song was over, Phryne extricated herself from Scarface’s arms and flinched on purpose when he grabbed her wrist to pull her back to him.

“I should leave, Mister.” she started. The following moments were going to be crucial.

“Stay lovey, and dance with me. You know you want to,” he growled, squeezing her wrist in a way that was sure to leave bruises.

“I really have to go, mister, I have a long way home,” Phryne continued, looking down at her shoes. Another piece of bait. She could practically hear him thinking.

“Fine then. Have a nice night, sweetheart,” he finally exclaimed and released her wrist.

Phryne half curtsied at him, feeling ridiculous while doing so, and hurriedly made her way out of the club. She knew Scarface would follow. As she turned the first corner around the club Phryne made eye contact with Jack, who was still in position in the alley. They exchanged a nod and Phryne kept walking, her stiletto heels clearly giving away her location, should Scarface have any doubts about which direction she was heading.

Jack watched from the shadows in tense anticipation as he saw the scarface leave the club and head out after Phryne, staying a good 30 meters behind her as she walked through the dark night. Jack followed them quietly, the brick firmly in hand. He knew where she was headed as they had discussed the route Phryne would take beforehand. It lead through dark alleyways where no one dared to venture at this hour and where scarface would be most likely to attack. Perfect for their plan.

When Phryne turned into a particularly dark street, she closed her hand firmly around the gun in her handbag. She hoped she wouldn’t need to use it, as it would draw unwanted attention to them, but it was better to be safe than sorry, she had learned over the years.

She heard big heavy steps approaching her from behind and steeled herself for the contact she knew was coming. Two big arms wrapped around her, one clutching at her breast, the other holding her steady by the waist.

“Where are you off to all alone, sweetheart?” Scarface growled in her ear and Phryne resisted the urge to panic. She whimpered and wriggled lightly to give him the illusion of a struggle while she waited, as patiently as she could, for the arms to release.

She was relieved to hear a loud crack, followed by the pressure around her easing up instantly, as Scarface dropped limply to his knees and fell over, a pool of blood spreading around his head. Jack was standing over him with the brick, a triumphant grin on his face.

“Well done, Jack!” Phryne praised him, shaking slightly from the adrenaline, and stepped over the lifeless man in front of her to get to Jack’s side. She looped her arm around his and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek. Their hits didn’t always go over so quietly and they were both thankful when they did.

“Thank you,” Jack smiled, proud of his handiwork. Phryne released his arm and bent down to go through the dead man’s pockets, taking his watch off as she went. When she stood back up she had a large bundle of cash in her hands.

“I suppose this is the money he got from blackmailing Miss Forester,” she thought out loud and Jack nodded in agreement.

“I’m sure she’ll be glad to hear of our success,” he replied and then gestured to the body. “For right now we have to get rid of the evidence.”

Phryne sighed. As satisfying as their job was, the clean-up portion she would never grow to like.

“I’ll pull the car around.”


	27. Coat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A good old-fashioned drabble, short and sweet.

Mr. Butler was the very eyes and ears of Wardlow. He was, of course, of the utmost discretion, but he believed there was nothing going on in the house that could get past him.

He watched the parade of men to Miss Fisher’s boudoir with fatherly concern, always staying close by when she had a man over, until he could be sure that she was safe in the arms of her companion of the night. More often than not he would stay up until it was time to let the visitors out of the house sometime during the night, at which pointhe would bid Miss Fisher goodnight and finally allow himself to go to sleep.

The nights where Mr. Butler could retire without any worries about Miss Fisher’s wellbeing were the ones Inspector Robinson visited. What had started out as short meetings after cases had turned into long late-night talks between the Inspector and his Miss and those were the evenings where Mr. Butler went to bed early, knowing Miss Fisher was as safe as she could be. He had, of course, noticed that his employer seemed particularly smitten with the Inspector, a choice he greatly approved of, though he’d never dare to speak the words.There had been notably less overnight visitors over the past several months as the Inspector dropped by more often. However, as far as Mr. Butler could tell, nothing romantic had transpired between his employer and the Inspector. Every morning after one of their nightcaps Mr. Butler found the coat hanger in the foyer empty, the Inspector having taken his leave sometime the night before, a fact acknowledged by the old man with a slight shake of his head.

Even greater was the joy and surprise (though who was he kidding, it had been a long time coming) on the old man’s face when one morning he turned the corner and spotted a familiar looking hat and coat hanging on the hooks in the foyer. Mr. Butler regarded them with fond eyes, thinking to himself that the garments looked like they belonged there, as if Wardlow was the home they had been waiting for. 

He smiled and walked as calmly as he could manage, given his current state of glee, to the kitchen, an extra spring in his step. He whistled quietly to himself as he prepared two plates for breakfast. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know the focus of the drawing is kind of on the magnolias and not the coat. But I drew them and liked them so much, and couldn't bring myself to get rid of them. :)


	28. Ride

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> While my brain wanted to do smut for this, I decided that I could not in good conscience post a drawing of what I had in mind so here's some fluff.  
Also I struggled a bit with the drawing, hence the simple style. Hope you enjoy!

While Phryne would never admit it freely, she was regretting her choice of clothing for today’s investigation. She was walking behind Jack through the dirty alleyway behind the warehouse their murder victim had been found, mourning her once pristine white shoes which were now decidedly muddy. She hoped Dot would be able to clean the leather. The rest of her outfit was also white, including her trousers, really an unfortunate choice, and when they reached a muddy puddle that spanned the entire width of the alley, Phryne stopped walking and stood rooted to her spot. There were only so many sacrifices she was willing to make.Jack turned around with a confused look on his face as the clacking sound of her heels stopped.

“Come along, Miss Fisher.” He prompted, a furrow in his brow until his eyes swept over her figure and she watched as realization dawned on his face.

“My my, the honorable Miss Phryne Fisher impeded by her own sartorial choices, is she?,” he teased and the look he received from her in return could have killed a lesser man.

“It’s possible I may have dressed somewhat... unfittingly for this dirty of an investigation,” she begrudgingly admitted and stared down the puddle as if her burning gaze could make the dirty water evaporate.

“Well you’ll either have to sacrifice your trousers or wait here, Miss Fisher.” Jack stated and made to walk through the puddle.

“Jack, wait!” Phryne exclaimed and he turned back around, already seeing a plan form behind her sparkling eyes.

“My dear Inspector,” she started in a sultry voice. “You... could carry me across?,” she suggested, her voice pitching like it always did, when she said something she knew he wouldn’t appreciate.

Jack snorted. “Miss Fisher, it is not my fault you decided to dress this impractically.” There was no way he would carry her across this puddle.

Phryne pushed out her lower lip in an adorable pout and impatiently rocked back and forth on her heels. Jack looked her over again and sighed. This woman was unquestionably and irreparably his weak spot.

“Alright Miss Fisher, hop on.”

With that he turned around and squatted, reconsidering having agreed to this, when he felt her hands warm on his shoulder and her legs wrap around his hips as she gave a little hop. He positioned his hands securely underneath her thighs, holding her up and decidedly _not_ thinking about how soft she felt in his hands. Phryne wrapped her arms around his shoulders, clutching him tightly, her entire upper body pressed against his back. Jack tried to ignore the warmth spreading through him and the movement of her chest with her breaths. He stealthily took a few steps forward, his steps faltering when he felt Phryne’s warm breath against his ear, tickling his skin.

“I do so appreciate this, Inspector,” she whispered softly into his ear and rested her chin on his shoulder as he finally crossed the puddle. He made to set her down, crouching slightly, confused by her limbs staying wrapped around him as she wouldn’t budge, keeping her legs firmly around his waist.

“Miss Fisher...”

“You really could to the gentlemanly thing and carry me the rest of the way as well, Jack. This alley really wasn’t made for these shoes,” she interrupted him, her tone demanding with a teasing note to it.

He looked over his shoulder to admonish her to find his face way too close to hers, their noses almost touching. Their eyes locked, her features almost blurry in their proximity and Jack tried to ignore the tightness in his throat as he spoke.

“I... we’d look ridiculous, Phryne.”

“I don’t see anyone besides us, Inspector, do you?” she returned, nudging his nose with hers in a gesture _far_ too intimate. Jack turned his head back to face front and took a deep breath to clear the fog in his mind.

“Fine,” he finally gritted through his teeth. He figured if anyone _were_ to come along, he’d look just as ridiculous carrying Phryne as he did while trying to set her down while she was clinging to him like a monkey to a tree.

Besides, he rather liked having her so close.


	29. Injured

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ALL the Whump for this prompt. I've never written anything like this and I don't really know the etiquette, but to be safe:
> 
> ** Graphic Depictions of Violence **, ** References to Sexual Violence **
> 
> Also I'm quite nervous about the art. Anyway, happy Phrack will be back again for the last two days of Inktober.  
If whump is your cup of tea, enjoy?

Jack raced into the small bungalow, Hugh and his men pulling up as Jack was already running inside. They had spent the last 5 hours interrogating the man who had taken Phryne two days ago.

***

In the beginning all they had to go on was a witness description of the man who had reportedly hit Phryne over the head and then stuffed her into his car. Jack’s stomach had churned at the witness’ statement but he had tried to stay calm. It was no use for him to panic. Phryne needed him to be clear-headed.

The 48 hours that followed had been a whirlwind of investigation, trying to find a clue, any clue, of who had taken her and where she was being held. Finally, a report came in of a man trying to abduct a woman in a manner similar to the way Phryne had been taken. Their witness’ description matched this man perfectly.

Will Anderson wore a self-satisfied smirk on his face as Jack stood before him in the interrogation room at City South. Anderson was a tall, rough-looking man, no doubt stronger than Phryne, especially if she was subdued, a thought Jack tried to push from his mind. He was also a smart man, quickly figuring out that Jack had a personal investment in the woman he had taken and seemingly getting a perverse pleasure out of seeing him suffer. Anderson ignored Jack’s question about where he was keeping Phryne, and instead started recounting, in detail, why he had taken her and what he had done. Told them how he enjoyed the way “these women who thought they were something better than everyone else” could be put in their place if one just tried. And Anderson had tried.

“Don’t worry Inspector, I didn’t touch her anywhere unseemly. Though I bet she would have liked that the little minx. She was quite feisty, as you can imagine. But unfortunately for your friend, I know how to break people. It’s the promise of pain, more than anything, that scares us, wouldn’t you agree?” he had said coldly, delighting in his story and the way it made the Inspector’s jaw clench.

It had taken all of Jack’s self control not to punch Anderson in the face. He needed Phryne’s location first, but the feeling of utter helplessness was becoming worse with each minute Jack spent in this room, listening to this animal.

“Tell me where she is,” he demanded for what must have been the tenth time, grinding his teeth together as he tried not to imagine a beaten Phryne lying somewhere in this city.

“Oh, it’s a fantastic place, sadly your friend didn’t seem to appreciate it. She spent the whole time screaming,” Anderson taunted him and Jack’s hands curled into fists on their own accord. He only half-listened as Anderson finally gave them an address, saw Hugh scribbling it down, and refocused on the monster in front of him one last time.

“I can’t guarantee she’ll still be alive, Inspector,” Anderson added with a dirty grin and Jack finally allowed himself to give into his baser urge, slamming his fist into the man’s face, feeling skin break underneath his knuckles.

***

Jack kicked down the door to the bungalow, his eyes trying to adjust to the darkness inside. It smelled old and dirty, though Jack hardly noticed as he began pushing open doors.

“Phryne?” he shouted, his heart hammering in his chest as he waited for a response. None came.

He started running through the rooms now, finding nothing on the ground floor. Hefrantically shouted her name as he raced up the steps to the upper level just as Hugh and the others entered the house. Still no answer from Phryne, Jack’s brain reminded him and Jack tried to ignore what that might mean. He found one of the doors locked and tried to focus over the blood rushing in his ears as he kicked it open and felt the ground drop out from underneath him.

There she was, lying motionless on the dirty ground in the middle of the room. He couldn’t tell if she was alive. In a split second Jack tried to assess her condition, trying not to panic. There were bruises on her arms, her face, her legs, dried blood and deep scratches covering her skin.

“Phryne,” he choked and rushed to her side, dropping to his knees and turning her onto her back to check for a pulse and breathing. She was cold to the touch but not dead cold, Jack tried to convince himself as he frantically felt her neck, sobbing out a sigh of relief when he felt a heartbeat underneath his fingertips, slow and weak, but there. 

“Phryne,” he repeated, lightly shaking her, trying to rub some warmth back into her unresponsive body, stroking her hair out of her face, careful not to press on any of the bruises. He didn’t know what to do as he sat next to her on the ground, willing Phryne to wake up, to move, to do anything besides lie there lifelessly.

Dimly, he registered Hugh barging into the room, his constable’s face transforming into one of pure horror as he took in the sight of Phryne.

“The ambulance has arrived, Sir. Is she...” he started, not daring to finish the question.

“She’s alive, Collins, but barely. Tell those damn medics to get in here.” Jack barked and Hugh retreated hastily at his boss’ order. Jack stood by helplessly as Phryne was carried out of the house and loaded into the ambulance. He stood frozen in place and watched the vehicle as it pulled away from the curb.

The reasonable thing to do was to stay and secure the scene. That was his job. And maybe he could find something that helped Phryne, maybe... Jack felt Hugh’s hand on his shoulder.

“Sir... should I drive you to the hospital?” Hugh asked softly and Jack registered the question as if through a thick fog.

“I... yes Collins, that would be good.” Jack croaked. There really was no decision to make. 

***

When he reached the hospital he saw Mac standing outside, staring blankly into the distance. Jack felt sick as he approached her.

“Mac.”

“Jack.”

A pause, neither of them knowing what to say. “How is she?” he asked the question at the forefront of his mind.

“She’s been through a lot.” 

Jack swallowed down the lump in his throat. “Will she be alright?”

“She won’t die.”

The words were not as comforting as they should have been. They stood there in silence.

***

A few hours later Phryne woke up. Jack was by her side in an instant, having watched over her from beside her bed the entire time she had been lying there. Her eyes fluttered open and she took in his disheveled appearance, her eyes darting down to where his hands were clasping hers, tears gathering in her eyes as realization of where she was and what had happened dawned on her.

“Phryne,” he breathed as her tears fell. He held her, steadying her and comforting as well as he could. They didn’t speak, didn’t have to. Eventually Phryne’s sobs subsided and her breathing calmed, the exhaustion overtaking her as she fell back asleep.

***

The next time she woke, Jack was still by her side, asleep in a chair next to her bed, his head next to her leg on the mattress, his hands holding on to hers securely. She took a deep breath, feeling more tears gather in her eyes.

She was Phryne Fisher, she reminded herself, blinking the tears away. She would get through this. She did not break. She looked down at the man in front of her and regarded him fondly, a hint of a smile on her face.

“Jack,” she whispered. She would be okay. 


	30. Catch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some fluff for today :) 
> 
> Tomorrow's the last day, I can't quite believe it yet...  
by the way, there happens to be an alternate and possibly not quite SFW drawing for the prompt "Ghost" floating around on my iPad. Would anyone be interested in a bonus chapter? ;)

Jack was still unsure if he was dreaming or if the previous night had actually happened. He was getting dressed in yesterday’s clothes and glanced back towards the bed where a naked Phryne was lounging, tangled in the sheets, watching him with sleepy eyes. It hadn’t been a dream, he reassured himself for the umpteenth time. Phryne grinned as she saw him looking back towards her and stretched out a bare leg toward him, grazing over the fabric of his trousers.

“Are you sure I can’t tempt you to come back to bed, Jack?” she tried, and it took all of his self-control not to do just that.

“I wish I could,” he sighed, momentarily distracted by the sheet sliding off of her leg until it almost revealed her buttock. “I need to get home and change before I head to the station.”

“Pity,” Phryne pouted and rolled over, burying her head back into the pillows.

“Hmmm, the bed smells like you, Jack.” she sighed and damn if his body didn’t react violently to her simple statement. He was certain the bed smelled mostly like sex, but the thought of his scent being embedded in Phryne Fisher’s sheets was arousing him to no end.

“Phryne...” he started, then stopped. He really needed to get to the station. “As much as I want to join you, I can’t. I’ll see you later?” he questioned, uncertain if they were on the same page regarding the next steps of their relationship. 

Phryne raised her head back up and looked at him with a gaze so full of love and desire, Jack felt himself swaying towards her involuntarily. “Oh, I expect you back in this bed by 6 o’clock at the latest, Inspector,” she replied in a sultry voice.Jack swallowed back the emotions threatening to spill over and simply nodded before turning towards the door.

“Jack?” Phryne called out and he paused with his hand on the doorknob and turned to face her again. She sat up, the sheet falling dangerously low around her torso, and placed a kiss on her open palm before placing her hand in front of her face and blowing lightly across her outstretched palm.

Jack chuckled. “Did you just blow me a kiss, Miss Fisher?” He was admittedly having a hard time reconciling this sweet and romantic Phryne with the one she had unleashed on him the night before. He also found he couldn’t keep a stupidly happy grin off of his face. 

“Yes... “ she replied, blushing slightly at his reaction. She wasn’t sure why she had done it, it just felt.. natural. And really, if he refused to come near her this morning, she’d have to make her kisses cross the distance in between them.“You know, in order to receive the kiss, you have to catch it, Inspector.”

“Oh, is that how that works,” Jack smiled but obediently raised his hand and grabbed at the empty air in front of him. 

“Great catch!” Phryne cheered from the bed and clapped her hands together, a rosy glow appearing on her cheeks.

“I rather think so myself,” Jack replied, his focus entirely on Phryne, the intensity of his gaze burning through her and sending a warm tingle down her body.

“Hurry back, Inspector,” she winked and Jack decided that he could stand to be a few more minutes late to work.


	31. Ripe

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ending this month with a bang, quite literally. 
> 
> Smut and more smut (with awkward safe sex) and also the most daring art of Phryne I've drawn, I think, but MAN did I have fun doing it.

Jack was holding on tightly to Phryne’s arm as he pulled her into one of the back rooms of the less than legal night club. He locked the door before turning toward her, his anger at her undercover mission, a stunt he had only found out about through his constable, after Miss Williams had accidentally given her employer’s plans away, bubbling over.

“Jaaaack...” she didn’t get any further than that before he interrupted her harshly.

“No, Phryne, my turn. This is yet another reckless, dangerous investigation you felt you had no responsibility to clue me in on.”

“Well, I knew you wouldn’t approve,” she pouted. She also hadn’t thought he would actually show up at the club as soon as he did find out about it.

“Wouldn’t...” he started, incredulous. “Of course I wouldn’t have approved Phryne, look at how you’re dressed, you’re baiting these men into...” he was at a loss for words as he swept his eyes over her state of dress, or undress rather. The amount of bare skin on display was distracting him thoroughly, especially her legs that were fully on display up to her hips bones with only thin lace underwear protecting what was left of her modesty.

“Jack, I’m _supposed_ to be a showgirl. This is how they dress.” she tried to appease him as she took off the rhinestoned fascinator on her head to set it on a small side table. Her eyes grew darker as she watched Jack’s gaze sweep over her nearly naked body with a hunger he couldn’t quite keep hidden. This was turning out to be a most pleasant development, Phryne thought to herself as she sidled up closer to Jack’s chest.

“You can’t tell me you don’t like what you see, Inspector,” she smirked, deciding that flirtation was the best way to throw him off his game and redirect his anger. Confusion mixed with arousal was a look she much preferred on him, anyway.

As she had anticipated, Jack blushed beet red, knowing he was caught, and tore his eyes away from her cleavage and legs to make eye contact with her again. His pupils were blown wide, wider than she had ever seen them and all of a sudden it was Phryne who felt thrown off her game.

“_Miss Fisher,_” he hissed. “You’re essentially... essentially naked, dancing around strange men with no back-up anywhere in sight. Are you _really _insisting that this was the best course of action to take?” he asked, focusing on her eyes, desperately trying to blend out everything below her neck.

“I... I don’t know,” she admitted sheepishly. He had a point. “Nothing’s happened.”

He huffed out a breath of frustration. “Out of sheer luck, I’d say. I overheard several fellows talking about how they thought you looked "ripe for the picking”.” Jack spit out the words bitterly as he recalled listening to the drunk men in the club. He had wondered only momentarily who they were talking about before he had spotted her and had nearly stumbled over his feet at the sight she made. Seeing her ogled like a piece of meat had made Jack’s protective side roar up with a force he had never experienced before. Just the thought of anyone laying a hand on her without her approval...

“Jack,” she said quietly, interrupting his thought process and stroking a hand down the sweater he had donned as a disguise. The gesture was familiar, yet given their current circumstances, and Phryne’s lack of clothing, Jack felt as if her touch burned right into his skin.

“It was stupid not to tell me, Phryne. I could have sat in some corner and minded my business but at least you wouldn’t have been alone in this place,” he exclaimed angrily, still holding her gaze and Phryne’s heart warmed at his statement.

“I’m sorry,” she finally acquiesced, her palm now flat on his chest, feeling the heat emanating from him through the fabric of the sweater. She was, truly, sorry. But she was also becoming hyperaware of Jack’s proximity and their location, the back room of the shady night club doing nothing to tamp down the arousal that had begun to build low in her belly by seeing Jack so riled up.

Phryne spied the bed in the corner that all the back rooms of the club were equipped with, before refocusing on Jack, who stood motionless with his hands clenched tightly into fists. Oh, how she longed to finally unleash that passion boiling underneath the surface. She realized that this might be the best chance she’d ever get to do so.

“Ripe for the picking, huh?” Phryne said and watched as Jack’s mind tried to catch up with her.

“Yes, that was what they said, why...” he started before she interrupted him.

“Don’t you agree with them, Inspector?” Phryne smirked, not bothering to hide the lust behind her eyes as she watched several emotions pass over Jack’s face.

“I... what?!” he blurted out, his eyes finally losing the battle with his brain, sweeping down to her cleavage, following the pendant of her sparkly necklace to where it lay between her lace-covered breasts, pushed up slightly by the corset she was wearing.

Phryne stepped around him and slowly walked over to the bed, her hips swaying a little more than usual. She could feel Jack’s eyes on her as she moved and grinned to herself. He wouldn’t be able to walk away today.

Jack was frozen in place as his eyes trailed up the long expanse of her legs, leading up to the greatest arse he had ever laid eyes on, her “showgirl” outfit revealing even more of her behind than the feathery costume at Madame Lyon’s had done. He didn’t know whether to be horrified or excited about what was unfolding in front of him and watched in silent fascination as Phryne toed off her heels before crawling onto the bed. She threw him a coy look before positioning herself in an utterly seductive pose, her chest pushed out slightly while her legs, encased in sinful fishnet stockings were elegantly stretched out in front of her.

Jack didn’t know where to look. He wanted to look everywhere at once, as she surely wanted him to, heaven knew _he _wanted to, yet his brain was telling him to be a gentleman, even under these circumstances.

“I’d be flattered, you know.” Phryne spoke again and Jack tore his gaze away from where it had landed on the soft curve of her arse. Being a gentleman wasn’t really working out at the moment, it seemed. Once again he was confused what she was taking about, his senses overwhelmed by the sight of her, perched on the bed.

“If you thought I looked ripe for the picking,” she continued, delighting in the way his eyes widened at her blatant statement.

“Even though I don’t appreciate the connotations of that particular saying,” Phryne added and might have said more on the matter if in the next second there hadn’t been the warm weight of Jack Robinson on her, pushing her down into the mattress as his body came to lie on top of hers.

“Jack,” she sighed before his mouth was on hers, urgent and hot, his tongue darting out to slide between her lips. Phryne groaned and greedily opened her mouth to admit him entrance, her own tongue dancing around his as their lips clashed together. They hungrily devoured each other’s mouths, probing and biting and licking, as their hands wandered down each other’s bodies.

Jack’s hand moved down to cup her bare arse, tugging her leg up around his waist so he could fit himself fully in between her thighs, grinding hard into her core. He growled into her mouth as she moaned, and ran his hands over her legs, enjoying the texture of the fishnet stocking underneath his fingers. Phryne wrapped her other leg around his hips as well to pull him tight against her in small, punctuated motions, grinding up against him in a way that made Jack see stars.

His mouth left hers for the first time and he trailed hot kisses along her jaw and down her neck, wanting to memorize the spots that made her sigh yet finding himself unable to do so in his haste to get to where he wanted. Jack hoped he would have another chance to explore her body fully and completely.

“You, Miss Fisher, look about as ripe for the picking as possible,” he rumbled as he found a particularly sensitive spot underneath her left ear. Phryne gasped in delight and arched into his touch as one of his hands came up to cup her breast through the flimsy lacy fabric covering it. Jack couldn’t help his hips bucking forward into hers at hearing her whimper.

“Jesus fuck, Phryne,” Jack cursed before roughly pulling down the cup of the bodice, exposing her pebbled nipple to the warm air, giving it only a moment before he sucked it into his mouth, hard, hearing his name gust out of Phryne’s mouth. Her hand flew up to tangle in his hair as she held him steady against her breast and she began to whimper out curses soft curses. Jack left her nipple to lightly bite at the soft underside of her breast before laving he spot with his tongue, goosebumps erupting all across Phryne’s chest.

Then she pulled him up roughly, suddenly overcome by the need to feel his skin on hers. She captured his mouth with hers again as she began to work on his trouser buttons, the feelings of her hands over his burning flesh rendering Jack incapable of speech. He moaned into her mouth, then buried his face in her neck, suckling on her skin in a way that was sure to leave a mark. Finally his cock was freed from the confines of his trousers and Jack groaned in pleasure as his hot, throbbing flesh lay in Phryne’s hands. She wrapped her fingers around him slowly, almost reverently, and stroked him firmly, from base to tip, Jack’s hips twitching forward helplessy into her grip.

“I want you, Jack,” Phryne murmured against his skin and Jack reclaimed her mouth, licking her tongue into his mouth while she kept up the ministrations to his cock. 

“Yes,” he growled, unable to formulate a more coherent sentence, and let his hands trail down the firm sides of her corset until they reached the juncture of her thighs and underwear. He gently urged her to loosen the grip her thighs had on him before unceremoniously pushing the bottom of the costume out of the way to sink two fingers straight into her dripping cunt.

“Ungh, god, Jack,” Phryne whimpered, her hands scrabbling at his shoulder to pull him closer.

“That’s it,” he praised her, mesmerized by the look of ecstasy on Phryne’s face as he plunged his fingers into her again and again, her hips rising and falling in time with his movements.

“Condoms?” he ground out and tracked the movement of her hand over to where she flailed it towards a small box on the table next to the bed. He should have figured that an establishment like this one had contraception available.He removed his hand from her cunt, followed by an anguished cry from her, as he launched himself across the bed to fumble with the small box until he finally held a condom in his hand. His hands were shaking as he ripped open the small packet and rolled it on before he returned to Phryne who had buried three of her own fingers inside of herself, rocking herself against her palm.

“_Christ_, Phryne,” Jack exclaimed, gripping himself to keep from coming as he moved towards her with a renewed purpose. He pulled Phryne’s fingers out of slick heat and growled at the groan she gave at the loss of pressure. He quickly replaced her palm as he laid himself over her again, grinding against her slippery folds, her wetness coating his balls. Phryne looked up at him with glazed eyes and arched her neck as his cock made contact with her clit.

“Phryne.” He groaned, burying his face in her throat, overwhelmed by the sensation of her undulating underneath him.

“Inside Jack, now,” she urged, sliding her hands around to his arse to pull him foward, finally sheathing his length inside her wet heat, tearing a groan from both of them.

“Perfect,” she hummed into his ear as they stayed in their position for a while, only pushing slightly against each other and relishing in the feeling of finally being joined. Finally Jack could not stay still any longer. He started withdrawing and pushing back into her, her cunt clenching around his length with every thrust. Their kisses were messy, more a meeting of open, panting, mouths than anything else, their tongues meeting in the middle as he fucked her slowly and steadily, her body pushed up slightly by the force behind his movements. Jack’s hands moved to grip Phryne’s waist, cinched tightly by the corset, the feeling of it strange underneath his palms. He could not wait for when he could finally feel all of her underneath his fingers but for now, the corset provided an excellent grip for pulling her hard onto his cock with every thrust, making him go deeper than before, a chance noticed by both of them.

Phryne wailed in pleasure as she started spasming around him, her back lifting off of the mattress as she shivered and pulsed around his cock. Jack clutched her tightly to him as he fucked her through her orgasm and felt his own coming on. His head dropped to her shoulder as he worked for his own pleasure, the smell of sex and Phryne’s arousal enveloping him and pushing him toward the edge.

In the end it was Phryne’s whispered “I’ve got you, Jack, let go.” combined with a lick to his earlobe that sent him over, his hips stuttering into hers as he came, his vision blacking out. It took a few minutes until he had rolled off of her and they had started to sort out their clothes as they had decided that they should probably leave the club for any further romantic exploration, now that the tension between them had finally broken. The look in Jack’s eyes told Phryne he would have taken her again right then and there, and she had ignored the shiver running through her at the thought. She wanted to take her time with him the next time and this night club was most definitely not the place to do it.

“You’ve got...” Jack signaled around his mouth and Phryne chuckled, knowing that her lipstick must be smeared all over her face.

“You too, Inspector,” she smirked and went to work removing the lipstick, thoroughly, from his face. He returned the favor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well... that's it folks!! _ *claps hands together* _
> 
> Did this month even happen or was it all a fever dream? A question I will be investigating over the next few days. 
> 
> But seriously, I cannot express how much all your lovely comments and kudos and overall support have meant to me. Thank you, from the bottom of my heart, it's been such a lovely (if difficult and time-consuming) experience. I'll definitely keep writing and drawing so be on the lookout for all of that and until then...
> 
> Happy Halloween :)
> 
> PS: Bonus smut chapter is going up tomorrow.


	32. Bonus: The Boo-Job

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The promised bonus chapter. More smut.  
I sketched the drawing a while ago after I had a conversation where a "boo-job" came up (it was a very enjoyable conversation, let me tell you) and revamped it a little for Inktober. Adding a story to it was really fun and I like how it turned out. Hope you enjoy!

Phryne woke up to the most delicious sensation of Jack Robinson’s morning erection pressed up against her backside. She smiled as she stretched out her legs and gently extricated herself from his embrace to use the toilet, running her eyes over the sleeping figure in her bed. He had turned onto his back when she had gotten up, his erection visibly tenting the thin sheet as he liked to sleep in the nude. He really was glorious.

On her way back to the bedroom, an idea popped into Phryne’s head and she grinned. When she crawled back onto the bed, she had a marker in her hand.

Jack woke up to a strange sensation on the lower half of his body. As his eyes slowly opened, his vision focused on Phryne who was caressing his now rapidly hardening erection through the sheets. He frowned slightly at the sight of the marker she was holding.

“Good morning, Jack,” she said and he returned her smile, curious about what her plans were. He hoped they involved her mouth around his cock.

She smirked as if able to see his thoughts, -he wouldn’t be surprised if she knew _exactly_ what he was thinking-, and pushed his legs apart so she could sit in between them, her legs outstretched on the sides of his torso, her feet neatly tucked underneath his arms. Her hand had switched from lightly caressing his member to moving her palm firmly along his length and Jack’s hand reflexively moved to feel her skin, his hand coming to rest on Phryne’s leg.

He closed his eyes, enjoying her touch and forgetting all about the marker until he felt Phryne position his erection so it stood up at a right angle from his belly, the sheet draped over it. Jack opened his eyes again to see Phryne lift the marker and set it to his erection, the sensation of the marker’s tip strange against the underside of his cock.

“Phryne...what on earth are you doing?” he asked, not exactly complaining but also not sure how he felt about what was happening. Though he didn't really know what was happening, to be honest.

“I’m giving you a boo-job,” Phryne announced as if it was the most normal thing in the world and as if she hadn’t just invented that word.

“Of course.” He replied dryly and raised an eyebrow as he smirked at her. “You realize you’re going to have to throw these sheets away.”

“Well worth it, Jack! Well worth it,” Phryne mumbled, her brows furrowed in concentration as she traced long ovals along his shaft.

Jack sighed happily and raised an arm behind his head to watch her as she worked, the slight touch of the marker against him arousing him further. When she took her lip between her teeth to focus on the circle that would be the mouth, Jack’s cock twitched toward her involuntarily and she raised her gaze to smirk at him.

“You’ll have to hold still or it’ll smudge, Inspector,” she teased, dropping her eyes back to his erection to fill in the circle.

“Right, we wouldn’t want a wonky looking ghost,” Jack’s reply was deadpan and she grinned.

“It’s looking perfectly straight to me,” she returned.

Jack felt the pleasant arousal that had been building slowly become more urgent. He tightened the hand on her leg, silently communicating his desire for her. Phryne wriggled her toes against his torso and completed one last stroke with the marker before capping it and looking at her “ghost” triumphantly.

“All done! He’s looking marvelous, the little guy.”

Jack snorted and pinched her calf in reprimand. “I don’t hear you complaining about it’s size.”

She hummed in agreement. “Very true, darling, you do fill me up rather nicely.”Just the memory of her stretching around him brought a flush to Jack's cheeks.

“I suppose I just always imagined ghosts to be these giant creatures," Phryne continued. 

“I thought you didn’t believe in ghosts,” Jack teased and watched as she lifted herself out of the hollow between his legs and began pushing up the sheet around his legs.

“Well how can I _not_ believe in them when I’ve got one staring right at me,” she grinned and exposed Jack’s lower body almost up to his balls. She crawled back in between his legs, now unrestricted by the bedsheet, and lightly trailed her hands up his calves and over his knees.

“Now, I believe ghosts usually move.” She spoke and trailed her fingers up the insides of his thighs, lightly scratching her nails along the sensitive skin there. Jack’s cock twitched on reflex and he suppressed a groan.

“Ah, there we go,” Phryne whispered and repeated the movement one, two, three times, Jack’s hips bucking up into the air on her last pass over his skin.

“Phryne...” he growled, his arousal quickly becoming painful and the thin sheet draped over him doing nothing whatsoever to alleviate the pressure in his groin.

“Yes?” she asked innocently, her fingers stilling on his thigh, right next to his balls.

“I was thinking maybe we could be done with the boo-job and start a different kind of job.” Jack ground out, somewhat breathless, groaning when her fingers found the base of his shaft, lightly circling his burning flesh yet denying him the friction he craved.

“My, my, are you suggesting what I think you’re suggesting?” Phryne teased, enjoying the view of her now severely disheveled Inspector.

“Please...” he groaned and while Phryne Fisher possessed a great deal of will-power, Jack Robinson begging for a blowjob undid her like little else. Besides, she had no intention of resisting his suggestion. She swept the sheet away from his cock and in the next second her lips were wrapped around his crown, sucking him into the warm wet cave of her mouth. Jack cursed as he tried to keep his hips still, his hands clenching in the sheets while Phryne worked his cock, one hand lightly pumping up and down his shaft while the other came up to caress his balls. Jack felt her tongue swirling around his head before it pressed stiffly against the underside of his crown, tearing an animal groan from his throat. Phryne released her hand around his cock to take him further into her throat, the exquisite combination of suction and wetness around his throbbing flesh quickly sending Jack towards climax. Phryne knew he was close when his hips lightly started moving against her, his hands flying to her shoulder and hair to hold her in place. She let her hand on his balls drop lower, between the cheeks of his arse, and pressed one finger against his lower entrance, knowing it would send him over. Jack let out a string of curses before breaking as she had intended, hips stuttering into her, his release warmly filling her mouth.

Phryne pressed a series of light kisses along his softening length, while Jack's fingers released their grip on her head and he softly caressed the smooth skin of her neck. Eventually Phryne sat up and wiped her mouth as she looked up at him, her breath catching when she saw the awe in his gaze. She would never get tired of that look, she thought to herself as she crawled up the bed, her lips coming to hover an inch above his.

“Boo.”

Jack kissed her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fin. (For real this time) <3


End file.
